:' ..\:\ ",. R ;je 



■ - '. - 

I fill 

■ 



^^THHN AASON WAHREN, 

M.D. 



■ 
V Eg 



H 







^S^^i^l 




"' >.- 




*&tf'^''*^> ^ o ~^'rf&W 4: ^w 





c 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap.--§S5-% 

Shelf _^\A/^4V 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






S&£ 1 



|0\ 




mm 











YV/7 ///9^>s;^ 



MEMOIR 



OF 




JONATHAN MASON WARREN, M.D, 



BY 



HOWARD PAYSON ARNOLD. 



JJrfnteTi for $3rfbate Distribution. 



BOSTON: 

1886. 



A 



,^> 






mtutattg l$xm: 
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 



La medecine est en effet le plus beau de tous les arts, puisque 
la sante est le plus grand des biens corporels, mais c'est a la con- 
dition que la medecine soit exercee honorablement et que le 
medecin soit orne de toutes les qualites de l'esprit et du co3ur : 
la medecine est un veritable sacerdoce; c'est de plus une science 
qui touche a toutes les autres sciences; elle exige done impe- 
rieusement et la culture intellectuelle la plus etendue et les plus 
nobles sentiments. — Daeembeeg. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

Page 
Birth, Parentage, and Education. — The Latin Grammar 

School under Master Gould. — Entrance at Harvard 

College 1-19 

CHAPTER II. 

Youthful Characteristics and Attachments. — Loss of 
Health 20-36 



CHAPTER III. 

Cuba. — Newport. — Professional Studies. — Graduation 
at the Medical School 37-49 



CHAPTER IV. 

European Travels and Studies. — The Cholera. — Life in 
London and Paris * 50-72 



CHAPTER V. 

Paris and the Quartier Latin. — The Students and their 
Professors 73-91 



CHAPTER VI. 

Lights of the Surgical Profession in Paris half a Cen- 
tury ago 92-110 

CHAPTER VII. 

Life in Paris. — Americans in Europe. — Paternal Let- 
ters and Advice. — Parisian Sundays. — Le Restaurant 
Flicoteau. — Les Trois Freres Provencaux . . . 111-130 



VI CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Page 
Professional Loyalty. — Operatic and other Splendors. 

— Friends from Home. — Paternal Commissions. — Mr. 
Samuel Welles 131-148 

CHAPTER IX. 

Lafayette. — Rajah Rammohun Roy. — The Carnival of 
1833 and other diversions. correspondence. — profes- 
SIONAL Pursuits. — Journey to Switzerland and Italy 149-165 

CHAPTER X. 

Second Year abroad. — Surgical Studies. — Miniature. — 
Dress. — Barricades. — The Rhine. — Holland and Bel- 
gium. — London. — Attentions of the Faculty and Others. 

— Operations. — Hospitals 166-188 



CHAPTER XI. 

Future Plans. — Journey to Dublin. — Edinburgh and the 
British Association. — Return to London and Paris. — 
Letters from Paris. — Return to America .... 189-210 



CHAPTER XII. 

Professional Outlook. — The Boston of 1835. — Advent 
in Society. — Personal Traits. — Takes Charge of his 
Father's Practice. — Surgical Conditions at this Pe- 
riod 211-224 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Marriage and Domestic Establishment. — Second Tour 
abroad. — Uncertain Health. — Discovery of Ether as 
an Anaesthetic. — First Operation in Public. — Disaster 
at Norwalk. — Last Hours of Daniel Webster . . 225-240 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Third Tour in Europe. — Dr. Richard Warren. — Failing 
Health. — Again crosses the Ocean. — Death of Dr. 
John C. Warren and his last Message. — Return to 
Practice 241-251 



CONTEXTS. Vll 

CHAPTER XV. 

Page 
Increasing Illness. — Address to the Massachusetts Med- 
ical Society. — " Surgical Observations." — Growing 
Weae^'ess. — Ceaseless Activity. — Last Visit to the 
Hospital. — Gradual Approach of Death .... 252-263 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Connection with various Societies. — Tributes of Respect. 
— Resolutions of the Physicians and Surgeons of the 
Massachusetts General Hospital. — Letter from Dr. 
Henry I. Bowditch 264-271 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Dr. Warren's Characteristic Traits. — His High Ideal. — 
Professional Relations. — Peculiar Merits both as Sur- 
geon and Physician. — At the Hospital. — Treatment of 
his Patients and their Attachment to him. — Tender- 
ness of Heart 272-286 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Dr. Warren's Youthful Sympathies. — His Children. — 
" Mount Warren." — An Ideal Home. — His Sense of 
Humor and Descriptive Powers. — Drolleries of Pa- 
tients. — An Admirable Story-teller. — The Thursday 
Evening Club. — Resemblance to Dr. John Warren 287-303 



APPENDIX A 305-310 

B 311-316 

INDEX 319-329 



MEMOIR, 



CHAPTER I. 



BIRTH, PARENTAGE, AND EDUCATION. — THE LATIN GRAM- 
MAR SCHOOL UNDER MASTER GOULD. ENTRANCE AT 

HARVARD COLLEGE. 

Jonathan Mason Warren was born in Boston on the 
5th of February, a. d. 1811, at the house, No. 2 Park 
Street, then occupied by his father, John Collins Warren. 
His mother was Susan Powell Mason, daughter of Jona- 
than Mason; and he was their fourth child. So well 
known is his honorable descent, — so long and so thor- 
oughly were members of his family identified with the 
history of their native State under every form of patriot- 
ism, devotion, and public spirit, — that it is hardly neces- 
sary to mention that he was the grandson of John Warren, 
Hospital Surgeon in the War of the Revolution and first 
Professor of Anatomy and Surgery in Harvard College, 
and the grand-nephew of General Joseph Warren, who 
died on Bunker Hill. 

The early years of Mason — for thus his relatives and 
chosen friends invariably were wont to call him — moved 
quietly on under his father's roof, and seem to have 
brought forth little that, so far as he was concerned, de- 
serves notice. Even those who knew him best are unable 
now to recall any words of his which would have justified 
the inference of future renown, or any deed that suggested 
precocious talent. This was undoubtedly due, in part at 
least, to the position in which he was born and to the cir- 
cumstances which thereafter long surrounded him. These 



2 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

were not such as to foster prematurely any manliness that 
might have lain dormant within him. His boyhood was 
remarkably uneventful, and the emergencies that so often 
promptly stimulate the growth of character were in his 
case altogether wanting. The very calm and comfort 
which attended him prevented those striking peculiarities 
that might have sprung from a closer intercourse or a 
rougher collision with the world. No aspect of life, 
whether social or domestic, could have been much more 
void of incident than that of New England during the 
early part of this century, especially in such prominent 
and thrifty families as that of Dr. John C. Warren. Rest- 
ing on a basis of sound prosperity, naturally conservative 
and averse to change, these were distinguished by a kind 
of tranquil and dignified well-being, which dwelt apart 
in an atmosphere of its own and shed light from but 
few facets. They were thus exempt from the stirring 
schemes and aspirations, social and other, which in our 
day are begotten by mutual rivalry and contagious fric- 
tion from without, and are borne in upon us with resist- 
less pressure from countless sources. The progress of the 
country in those days was comparatively slow. Though 
dimly conscious of grand possibilities in the future, the 
people were dilatory in bringing their new forces to bear, 
and while gathering strength for an onward movement, 
seemed, as it were, arrested for the time by the very 
splendor of the prospect that lay outspread before them. 
The past had still a powerful influence ; and the inevitable 
craving for peace after years of revolutionary turbulence 
naturally did much to repress that radical unrest, that 
grasping ambition, which afterwards came in like a flood. 
Happily nestled in this tardy and faltering advance, Mason 
encountered nothing that would urge his abilities rapidly 
to the surface, or increase the tenacity of their hold. 

In the fall of 1820, when he had not yet reached the 
tenth anniversary of his birth, Mason entered the Latin 



THE LATIN GRAMMAK SCHOOL. 6 

Grammar School, then located on School Street, where 
the Parker House now stands. He there became one of 
nearly two hundred pupils under the instruction of Benja- 
min Apthorp Gould, who was then at the height of his 
reputation as the most accomplished scholar and the ablest 
teacher of his country, ana who was thoroughly well fitted 
by taste and culture, no less than by natural talent, to ex- 
cite respect for classical lore in the minds of all intrusted 
to his care. This object he sought to attain, not so much 
by the use of corporeal means, the ferulce iristes, sceptra 
pcedagorum, as by the influence of his steadfast example 
and the contagion of his own enthusiasm. The famous 
head of a now famous institution, Master Gould had filled 
this position since the spring of 1814. Having entered 
Harvard at the mature age of twenty-three, after the con- 
quest of obstacles that would have daunted many a less 
resolute nature, he had applied himself to the ancient au- 
thors with all his energies. Every sympathy of his being 
had lain in that direction from the beginning. Even long 
before the close of his college course he had become so dis- 
tinguished for scholarly acquirements that soon after he 
became a senior he was earnestly solicited by the town 
authorities to take charge of the Latin School, which at 
that time had sadly fallen away from its old repute, and 
do his best to restore its sinking fortunes. Thus urged, 
and with the consent of the Faculty, who were wisely 
willing to give him his degree notwithstanding his pro- 
posed withdrawal, he accepted the offer. Thus far he had 
more than justified the estimate of his abilities. Under 
the new management the school had developed fresh and 
abundant vigor, and its prosperity had become at once 
assured. No such success had been achieved during all its 
history as that which had followed the policy of Master 
Gould; and the popularity that naturally accompanied it 
he was now enjoying. Among his pupils were many sons 
of the best-known and most respected Boston families, not 



4 JONATHAN MASON WAREEN. 

a few of whom were afterwards to figure prominently 
both in public and in private life. The names of D wight, 
Lawrence, Bowditch, Phillips, Appleton, Cabot, Inches, 
Gray, Perkins, Sargent, Gardner, Wigglesworth, Motley, 
Prescott, Sumner, Hancock, and numerous others no less 
eminent, which were then to be seen on the rolls of the 
institution, will serve to show its celebrity under Master 
Gould's administration, and the quality of Mason's asso- 
ciates during his attendance upon its teachings. 

In all that related to the study of the classics Mason 
could not have been more favorably situated. No similar 
academy in the land offered such peculiar advantages, or 
more cogent incentives to good scholarship. If he had 
inherited even a moderate partiality for the languages 
and literature of antiquity, his teacher would surely have 
warmed it into a glowing fire. Master Gould's fitness for 
his office revealed itself not only through his zealous de- 
votion to its purposes, but through his untiring efforts to 
impart a similar ardor to his pupils. He had a deep-seated 
admiration for the beauties of the old writers, both as to 
style and matter, while a certain innate vein of poetry 
enabled him to appreciate them with a nice and correct 
discernment. A classical education, he wrote, " conduced 
more than any other yet discovered to refine the mind of 
man, to imbue him with a purer taste, to elevate his 
thoughts, to exalt his hopes, and finally to render him a 
virtuous and consequently a useful member of the great 
family to which he belongs." So strong was his belief in 
the truth of this utterance, tha£ it impregnated his whole 
life and inspired his every act. He was endowed with a 
fervid ambition, and regarded success as a duty. Oppo- 
sition only served to stimulate him to renewed exertions, 
and obstacles he regarded but as the steps to higher 
things. His influence was also greatly increased by a 
sanguine temperament, which led him to ignore the possi- 
bility of failure. Always seeking new paths to excellence, 



GEORGE MANNERS. O 

he was careful to encourage every form of merit, in what- 
ever class of society it might reveal itself. Having broad 
and far-sighted views as to educational progress, he was 
eminently just to all. Thoroughly patriotic and scorning 
what he termed " the supercilious sneers and ill-judged 
remarks of foreigners/ ' who reproached America with its 
want of learning, he did all in his power to blunt the sting 
of this reproach by promoting a literary taste and advanc- 
ing a scholarly spirit among the youth of his time. When, 
in addition to all these qualities, one learns that he was a 
man of singular purity of character, of commanding pres- 
ence and notable courtesy of manner, it will not be dif- 
ficult to understand the sources of his influence and the 
peculiar prestige he conferred upon his position. 

Shortly after Master Gould had taken charge of the 
Latin School his energies received a still stronger impe- 
tus from the arrival of certain Englishmen, whose advent 
he was not the man to regard unmoved. The most 
prominent of these was George Manners, Consul for 
Massachusetts and New Hampshire, and the first of these 
officials sent to Boston by British Majesty after the end 
of the superfluous War of 1812. He was an admirable 
scholar, a graduate of Eton and of Oxford, and endowed 
with a peculiarly genial and polished demeanor. Mr. 
Gould soon made his acquaintance, and frequently con- 
ferred with him on matters of mutual and professional 
interest. The glowing accounts he received of the system 
of instruction pursued at Eton, Harrow, and other promi- 
nent English schools naturally excited a desire to raise 
his own to an equal degree of efficiency, and he was not 
slow to take steps towards this object. Mr. Manners was 
shortly followed by another of his countrymen, who came 
in a shape more defiant and aggravating than any that 
had yet crossed the path of Mr. Gould. This was John 
Carlton Fisher, LL.D., also claiming to be an Oxonian, 
who had been invited across the Atlantic at the instance 



6 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

of Edward Everett and other Boston gentlemen, for edu- 
cational purposes of their own. Under their patronage 
he proceeded to open a private school, which was attended 
by Robert C. Winthrop, and several other sons of eminent 
citizens, who were of the opinion that Oxford-born Greek 
and Latin might confer a richer, finer, and more enduring 
flavor than the homely acquirements of Master Gould. 

As to the scholarship of Dr. Fisher, there seems to 
have been no doubt ; and his school was at first a success. 
Being thrown upon his own resources, he saw the need 
of promptly asserting himself and defining his position, 
while his enterprising temperament led him to press hard 
upon his chief rival. At length he issued a challenge 
to the classical lights of the metropolis, proposing that 
they should compete with him in a translation of Gray's 
Elegy into Latin verse. As there was no response to 
this, Dr. Fisher complacently published his elegant elabo- 
rations in one of the city newspapers, that all Boston, and 
perhaps a part of New England, might become aware of 
his taste and learning. Whatever may have been Master 
Gould's reasons for declining this ordeal, we may safely 
conclude that it did not arise from fear of the result. In 
temperament he was a born athlete ; and had he met his 
rival in the field, would undoubtedly have shown himself 
equal to the occasion, and none the less that a public con- 
test for his own household gods would naturally have 
brought out the best that was in him. As it was, he felt 
the stimulus of renewed exertions and a more earnest 
devotion to his work. 1 

i In the Boston Daily Advertiser of Aug. 9, 1882, appears the following account 
of Dr. Fisher : — 

" The origin and history of Dr. Fisher's school is remembered by a still surviving 
pupil, and his account is thus given: 'A few Boston gentlemen, unwilling to send 
their sons to the public Latin School, then under the management of Dr. Gould 
(Master Gould at that time), met together and agreed to send abroad and import a 
Latin scholar to teach their sons. Among these gentlemen were the following, as 
nearly as can be remembered at this time : John Welles and Samuel P. Gardiner, 
Esqs., of Summer Street ; Mr. Winthrop and Charles Bradbury, of Hamilton Place ; 



SCHOLASTIC GLORY OF THE LATIN SCHOOL. I 

At the time of Mason's entrance the Latin School was 
reaping the benefit of the activity thus evoked. Seated 
on an eminence never before attained, its fame excited 
the just pride of the citizens and a lively concern for its 
further progress. Its judicious system of education had 
already produced a number of brilliant scholars, while 
others as full of promise were coming forward. Master 
Gould left no means untried to urge his pupils on to their 
work, and to deepen the interest he had excited. For 
the success that crowned his efforts, not Boston alone, 
but the whole country, has reason to be thankful, since 
these efforts finally culminated in the scholastic glory 
which still clings to the names ofWinthrop, Emerson, 
Hillard, Sumner, Motley, Dixwell, and others of hardly 
less repute, who first received from Master Gould the 
living light with which they were to illuminate the length 
and breadth of the land. This general thirst for classical 
learning which now pervaded the community was quick- 
ened into still more vigorous development by private aid. 

John Richards, an English gentleman ; William Sullivan, of Chestnut Street ; 
Harrison Gray Otis ; Colonel John T. Apthorp ; Edmund Dwight ; Theodore or 
George Lyman ; and we think the names of Perkins, Grant, Prince, Ritchie, and 
a few others might be added. On the application of these gentlemen, with the 
promise of a high salary, an excellent Latin scholar was sent, in the person of 
Dr. Fisher. He was an English dandy, of middle age, elegantly dressed, a high 
liver, fond of pleasure, and ill-calculated for the service expected of him. The 
school was kept in the vestry-room, under the First Church, Dr. Frothingham's, in 
Chauncy Place. The sons of all these gentlemen were employed in the study of 
Eton's Latin Grammar, a book on Chronology, and a few other branches, for the 
space of about two years. At the end of this time it was felt that the tastes and 
habits of the Doctor were not such as would be likely to lead his pupils to make 
the best use of their time. Notes were received from nearly all the parents suc- 
cessively, withdrawing their sons from the school ; and thus ended this costly and 
unprofitable experiment. Most of the boys entered the Boston Latin School, and 
there, under Master Gould, were fitted for college.' " 

Whether from ill-luck, neglect, or whatever other source, if the facts of Dr. Fish- 
er's career have been correctly given, he seems to have been in some respects sadly 
ignored by his contemporaries, and has already become more or less mythical in 
consequence. After considerable research no evidence can be discovered that he 
ever was at Oxford, or that he had any right to the degree of LL.D., nor does his 
name appear in the Boston Directory during the period of his stay in that city, 
nor can any notice or advertisement of his school be found in the papers of that 
day. Stat nominis umbra. 



8 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

In the spring of 1820 " a ^few gentlemen interested in 
the cause of classical literature, and in the Latin School 
particularly/' raised a fund of ,$110 annually for five 
years, " to be expended in prizes for the best perform- 
ances in prose and poetry in the Latin and Greek lan- 
guages, and in such other rewards for excellence as may 
be thought best calculated to stimulate the pupils to exer- 
tion, and to keep alive a spirit of emulation and literary 
ardor through the various departments of the public 
Latin School in the town of Boston." This experiment 
worked well ; and the ensuing five years witnessed the 
birth of many productions in ancient garb which were 
most creditable to their authors. The successful com- 
petitors were doubly blessed ; for not only did they secure 
a handsome award, but private liberality furnished the 
means for their preservation in an enduring form, and 
they had the satisfaction of seeing their efforts printed 
in " The Prize Book of the Publick Latin School in Bos- 
ton," of which Mr. Gould was, naturally, the editor, and 
to which he often contributed. In this way the fame 
of the school extended even beyond the Atlantic, and 
the first-prize Latin Poem for 1821 became known in 
England. " Proserpina Rapta, auctore Benjamine Brig- 
ham," doubtless to the great surprise and delight of the 
writer, was republished in the London " Classical Journal " 
for that year verbatim et literatim, though it extended to 
seventy-six lines. The editor of that publication " hailed 
with pleasure the improvement making in the American 
colleges in classical knowledge, in the liter w humaniores" 
and added some words of praise which, though not posi- 
tively intoxicating, were yet highly palatable to those who 
considered the fountain from which they flowed. 1 

1 In view of the fame afterwards achieved by the recipients, it is worthy of notice 
that during the last year in which these prizes were distributed, a. d. 1824, three 
were awarded to George S. Hillard, and two to Charles Sumner. At the time of 
the demolition of the Latin School building in 1850, to make way for Horticultural 
Hail, Mr. Hillard availed himself of the occasion to portray the lasting and magic 



PKOMINENCE OF THE MEMORY. 9 

In Master Gould's day the memory played an impor- 
tant part as a means of education, and the effects thereof 
were admirably designed to impress all who observed 
them. It was his conviction that the pupils' minds 
should be " stored with fine sentiments and beautiful 
diction," as he expressed it, Ci selected from the noblest 
writers whom the world ever produced. Honor, spirit, 
liberality, will be acquired by committing to memory the 
thoughts and words of fine writers, of heroes and of 
worthies who eminently shone in every species of excel- 
lence." Thus urged, his boys learned hundreds of lines 
from Horace, Virgil, Juvenal, and even Homer, which 
were always* ready to glide with nimble fluency from 
their tongues. " Capping verses " was daily practised by 
the older pupils, who left their seats at the close of the 
session with the melodious measures of ancient poesy 
on their lips. At times came distinguished strangers, 
attracted by the renown of the institution. They were 
welcomed in the language of ancient Kome. Often it 
was visited by Admiral Sir Isaac Coffin, who, though in 
the British navy, had been a Boston boy, had received 
his education at its schools, and still retained a warm 
affection for his early home. On one occasion, while he 
was passing out, the side benches fired salutes of verses 
in his honor, boy after boy " capping " them with great 
volubility. As the Admiral reached the door the final 
" s " of the line they were then repeating was borne to 

influences of the old institution in an appreciative essay. To Master Gould he 
offered a grateful tribute : " The gentleman who was at the head of the school 
in my day is still living among us. For this reason I cannot speak of him as 
I would, or express the extent of our obligations to him. Far distant may the 
day be when we shall be permitted to utter his eulogy ; but his own works are 
daily praising him in the gates, and the character of the pupils whom he has 
trained is covering his name with silent benedictions. " From Mr. Hillard's 
account of the edifice itself, the pupils must have labored under many discomforts: 
" Certainly there were no intrinsic charms in the building to commend it to the 
affectionate remembrance of the boys. There never was anything more bare, 
more tasteless, more uncouth. The walls were the blankest, the seats the hardest, 
the desks the most inconvenient, that could be imagined." — The Boston Book, 1850. 



10 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

his ear. Turning with a sudden and happy instinct, he 
pronounced in ringing tones the familiar opening of Vir- 
gil's noble and famous fourth Eclogue, — 

" Sicelides Musse, paulo majora canamus! " 

and then, profoundly bowing, took his departure, followed 
by a unanimous burst of applause from the scholars. 

During Mason Warren's boyhood the semi-annual ex- 
aminations — or " visitations," as they were styled — of 
the public schools were prominent events, and aroused a 
general and lively interest among the citizens. Especially 
was this true of those held in the month of August at the 
close of the school year, for which the teachers made 
great preparations and excited corresponding hopes. 
That of the Latin School naturally took the lead in the 
popular regard, and, as the bright particular star, was 
reserved for the last. At this grand ceremonial Master 
Gould presided — one might more properly say, predomi- 
nated — with much pomp, and availed himself of the op- 
portunity to magnify his office, to impress the audience, 
and to feed the pride and curiosity of his friends and 
patrons with the achievements of the past twelvemonth. 
The memory then blazed with all its splendor ; and the 
assembled crowd found it hard to suppress their admira- 
tion as the boys delivered voluminous extracts from the 
Greek and the Eoman poets, — extracts which, like the 
words of Galgacus, delivered by Sir Walter Scott under 
similar circumstances, " did not make the less impression 
on the audience that few probably understood one word 
of them. ,, Towards the end of the exercises the medals 
and other trophies were presented in full conclave ; and 
the lucky recipients, passing from glory to glory, were 
finally escorted with the other civic magnates to Faneuil 
Hall. Here they partook of a sumptuous banquet, all 
the more palatable since they were not obliged to make 
any further speeches, either in the Latin tongue or any 



THE TRIUMPHANT MEDALLISTS. 11 

other. Frequently some of the parts presented on these 
occasions were composed by the speakers thereof; for 
Master Gould held that not only the learning of Latin 
verses, but the making of them as well, was essential to 
a good education, and accordingly bestowed upon this 
branch much attention. Thus only, he declared, could 
prosody be acquired, while the exercise also " gave un- 
limited scope to invention, and afforded the finest field for 
the cultivation of classical taste and delicacy of percep- 
tion." This object he never ceased to pursue with energy 
so unflagging that while many of his boys distinguished 
themselves by the breadth and accuracy of their scholar- 
ship, the great majority of the lesser lights were able to 
achieve hexameters and pentameters almost worthy of 
Milton himself, and could grind out an appointed task 
with a certain mechanical facility and correctness which it 
is probable many native Romans never quite equalled. 

This system, persistently carried out, led at last to 
consequences which might have been foreseen. The 
course followed at the Latin School gradually encroached 
on that of Harvard College, and many of the graduates 
from the former discovered, after their entrance at the 
latter, that the ancient authors assigned to the freshman 
and sophomore classes were very old friends indeed. 
Thus it befell that finding themselves for the most part 
overfitted as to their Greek and Latin, they were soon 
beguiled into spending their time in comparative idleness, 
at least during their first termsi This proved so dis- 
astrous to their habits of application that in the end they 
were not seldom outstripped by students from other lo- 
calities less superabundantly prepared. Moreover, long 
practice and incessant drilling had sharpened their wits 
to the utmost keenness. Thus they were quick to de- 
tect even a slight mistake, and at a false quantity many of 
the pupils would start forward with nimble alacrity and 
rectify it on the spot. Upon their trained ears it fell 



12 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

like a discord in music ; and as even their tutors were 
sometimes found tripping, they were driven almost inevi- 
tably to the conclusion that they knew more than their 
teachers. This made them pert and audacious, and they 
were not slow to illustrate their opinions on occasion 
with some fun and a little malice. Their success did not 
tend to increase either their deference or their docility. 
Tutor Felton, afterwards famous as Professor of Greek, 
was once hearing a recitation, when a discussion arose 
between him and another instructor as to a certain 
quantity. It had not proceeded far when the matter was 
settled by one of Master Gould's alumni shouting out a 
line from Juvenal which covered the point at issue, much 
to the vexation of the high contending parties. Even the 
preliminary examinations in Latin, for years conducted 
by President Kirkland, were enlivened at intervals by 
incidents of this nature ; and the impending freshmen, 
young as they were, did not always refrain from correct- 
ing on the spot, magna voce, the venerable pedagogue, 
who thus suddenly found himself driven to defend his 
own intrenchments instead of marching into the ranks of 
the enemy. This was thought to be very forth-putting 
and disrespectful, though Master Gould must have exulted 
over it with much glee in private. 

Despite the honorable aims of Master Gould and the 
fervid heartiness which he infused into his labors, the 
results of his system as a whole were not all that was 
expected. Though many notable examples of scholar- 
ship were brought forth, yet the conspicuous part taken 
by the memory tended in the majority of cases to pro- 
duce effects rather showy than lasting. With all his 
admiration for the literature of antiquity, Mr. Gould often 
failed to impress the zeal of his worship with permanent 
benefit upon his pupils. In regard to the making of 
verses even he admitted that the process was " so far 
mechanical that the dullest intellect need not despair of 



DECLINE OF MASTER GOULD'S SYSTEM. 13 

attaining to accuracy," so much easier is it to mould the 
outlines of a beautiful form than to breathe into it the 
breath of life. A conviction of the defects of Master 
Gould's method at length began to dawn upon the com- 
munity, and towards the close of his administration a 
change was already impending. Professors Beck and 
Follen, Bancroft and Coggswell, had returned from Eu- 
rope, fresh from the teachings of Gottingen, Heidelberg, 
and other German universities, and brought with them a 
great respect for the minute and profound erudition there 
prevailing. Gradually the superiority of this was ac- 
knowledged ; and after some discussion it took the place 
of the more pretentious scholarship in favor at the Latin 
School. 

During Mason Warren's connection with the institu- 
tion, however, Master Gould not only held his own, but 
failed to detect any falling away of the popularity that 
had gathered about him. In 1821 Dr. Fisher was con- 
strained to close his doors for lack of patronage. Retir- 
ing to New York, he became editor of the "Albion," 
having left his spolia opima in the hands of the enemy, 
who slept on the field of battle. As might have been 
foreseen, most of his pupils passed over to his rival, with 
such Attic taste and accomplishments as their late teacher 
had been able to confer upon them. Master Gould now 
had reason to plume himself on the fruits of his superior 
pluck and ability, all the more from the consciousness 
that they were well deserved. Ho appreciated the force 
of the saying that nothing succeeds like success. He 
retained his office till 1828, when he felt called upon to 
quit his post for other occupations quite as congenial, 
though of a widely different nature. Strange as it may 
seem, he was endowed not only with scholarly sympathies 
and unequalled efficiency as a teacher, but with remark- 
able business qualities, as was clearly proved by the 
fortune he acquired during the subsequent years of his 






14 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

life. Influenced partly by this taste, partly by a sense of 
failing health, and of consequent aversion to the confine- 
ment and monotony of his position, he became a mer- 
chant. To the end of his connection with the Latin School 
he was conscientiously devoted to his work, and it was 
only at the last that one could detect any signs of droop- 
ing energies. Occasionally, when engaged with one of 
his classes, whose repetition of well-worn passages had 
become more or less prosaic and uninteresting, drowsi- 
ness would supervene. Perchance unwittingly influenced 
by the illustrious example cited by Horace, " Quandoque 
bonus dormitat Homerus," he would then glide entirely 
out of the sphere of mental activity into the realms of 
absolute forge tfulness, yet — so strong was the ruling 
passion — never did this forgetfulness become so complete 
but that at a false quantity, or other lapse from classic 
integrity, he would start at once from his slumbers to fix 
the offender with his reproachful eye, and bring him to 
his senses with all the sternness of wonted authority. 

Notwithstanding all the examples of homage to the fair 
humanities and the various influences brought to bear 
upon his ambition, Mason was but an indifferent scholar. 
Like Sir Walter Scott at the High School of Edinburgh, 
he was " rather behind the class in which he was placed, 
both in years and progress." He was, in fact, at the time 
of his admission the youngest pupil, and that in appear- 
ance as well as in age. He was naturally of a gentle and 
retiring disposition, well behaved and yet full of exuberant 
spirits, which in that day nothing had occurred to repress. 
He was averse to restraint, and fonder of play than of 
work. His activity was bodily, rather than mental, and 
did not urge him very strongly in the direction of Greece 
and Eome. It would have required a much more mag- 
netic fervor than even his irrepressible teacher displayed, 
to infuse into his mind a love for ancient literature. The 
exquisite beauty and noble vigor of its writers failed to 



DISTASTE FOR THE CLASSICS. 15 

awaken a responsive echo, though his instructors sought 
to hammer their merits into him with repeated strokes 
and untiring arm. Perhaps he was repelled by the very 
incessant repetition and persistency of their method. The 
genius loci wore no angelic aspect in Mason's eyes. He 
found it portentous, hard, repulsive. Tully delighted him 
not, nor Homer either. Even the piquant charms of 
Horace palled on his jaded sense under the effect of com- 
pulsory admiration oft " full of force urged home." At 
first he was too young to absorb all these elegances, and 
even in later years only a faint intimation ever reached 
him. The Latin tongue always seemed to him rather 
more dead than alive, and that the sorrows of Dido should 
have been handed down to this age in long and monoto- 
nous hexameters, deaconed out, as it were, in stilted instal- 
ments, line upon line, appeared merely an added penalty 
to one whose woes and sins were revealed through such a 
medium. Even the elaborate invectives of Cicero against 
Catiline, and other advanced liberals of his day, lost both 
strength and point by dint of endless iteration. He felt 
his own patience quite as much abused as that of the 
patriotic orator and his senate. 

Excited by the impotence of his efforts to impart his 
own fervor and rare enjoyment of the masterpieces of 
antiquity to his pupil, the disappointed instructor was from 
time to time led to make a strong appeal in their behalf. 
" Mason ! " he burst forth one day in his vexation, when 
the lad had become confused in his struggles to learn the 
complicated parts of the verb tvjttco, which lay before him 
in a shapeless mass like the fossil remains of some mega- 
therium or other preadamite monster, " if you cannot 
master the tenses of a Greek verb, I fear you will never 
make your father's place good, when you come to deal 
with the anatomy of the human body." Whether any 
particular result ever followed from this apostrophe does 
not appear; but in spite of the ominous misgiving so 



16 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

strikingly presented, it was not prophetic, and Master Gould 
lived to see that though Xenophon, Virgil, and the other 
beacons of the past were very well in their way, they were 
not absolutely indispensable to human progress, and that 
a distaste for their works was by no means inconsistent 
with success in fields far remote from their influence. 

In justice to Mason's early days it should also be stated 
that though an imperfect scholar and showing few signs 
of the fulness of his coming development, there was 
ever apparent to a shrewd observer a kind of reserve 
force, a quiet consciousness of strength, which later in life 
expanded into an earnest purpose, high aims, and a devo- 
tion to his profession that surmounted every obstacle. He 
was but another illustration of the folly of attempting to 
draw from the vague beginnings of youth any inference 
as to its future. One who knew him well at this period 
and now clearly recalls him, writes : - — 

" I should say that Mason did not give evidence of the ability 
which he afterwards manifested. He took a respectable position, 
and was deemed a solid, sensible, manly boy, but not particu- 
larly quick. His thoughtfulness and self-restraint, however, 
might well have been regarded as proofs of a depth that was 
not yet sounded. I considered him a model of good manners, 
and as having a kindly as well as a courteous feeling to all; 
never, I should say, rash in speech, but, on the contrary, keep- 
ing to a remarkable degree his courage and self-possession." 

Mason remained at the Latin School till the end of the 
regular course of five years. He graduated in the sum- 
mer of 1825, taking his part — as spectator — in the 
ceremonies that accompanied the visitation of the school- 
committee on the 24th of August in that year. These 
were of the usual splendor, and were attended, as we are 
informed, " by the City Officers, the President of the Uni- 
versity and Clergy, the Hon. Judge Story and other officers 
of the United States, officers of the Commonwealth, and 
by many foreigners and strangers of eminence.' ' We also 



VISITATION CEREMONIES. 17 

learn that "the attendance of the Ladies on this occasion 
exceeded any former one." After the examination was 
finished, " according to custom, the officers of the city gov- 
ernment and other gentlemen invited, among whom were 
several distinguished strangers, and the lads from the sev- 
eral schools to whom the premiums were awarded, mak- 
ing in all four or five hundred, went in procession to 
Faneuil Hall, and sat down to a sumptuous dinner pro- 
vided by Mr. Smith, at which the Hon. Mayor of the city 
presided. Soon after the cloth was removed, the pupils 
paid their respects to the committee and retired, amidst 
the plaudits of their fathers for their good deportment." 1 
Though these splendors were mostly lost to Mason, — 
though he did not march through the streets with the ^rve 
hundred, and did not even look upon the stately junket- 
ing in Faneuil Hall ; though he bore no trophy whatever 
from the field, and served merely to increase the glories 
that clustered round his chief, — the fact does not seem to 

1 The minute accounts of this event, as they appeared in the papers of the day, 
notably in the "Columbian Centinel" and the "Daily Advertiser/' may now be 
perused with peculiar interest, from the evidence they furnish of the changes that 
have taken place during the last half-century. A remarkable feature of the banquet 
in Faneuil Hall was the toasts, which seem then to have reached their culmination. 
Though now fallen into comparative neglect, fifty years since they were a promi- 
nent attraction at all public festivals. The " Advertiser " prints more than a score 
of them, "as a proof of the rational conviviality of the occasion." An especial 
tribute was paid to — 

" Admiral Sir Isaac Coffin, — a Boston boy, educated at our Latin School, whom 
neither distance nor absence nor foreign honors can ever cause to forget his school, 
his town, his State, and his native land ; 

' Dulces reminiscitur Argos.' " 
After the regular toasts came many "volunteers," offered by Judge Story, Presi- 
dent Kirkland, and others. Of these, that from " Capt. Wormeley, of His Britannic 
Majesty's Navy," was facile princeps, covering the ground completely and leaving 
nothing more to be said : — 

" Such an institution as we at present celebrate, — may it pervade the universe ! " 

Although coming from one of the Danaos, whose gifts all scholars might justly 
regard with suspicion, this sentiment must have been sufficiently flattering to his 
hearers to enable them to overlook its origin. The generous hospitalities which 
the Captain had been enjoying had doubtless begun to work upon his imagination, 
and had enlarged the scope of his horizon to an indefinite extent. The aspirations 
he expressed in behalf of the school must have been perfectly satisfactory, even to 
the ambitious aims of Master Gould. 

2 



18 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

have caused him much discontent, and he was well pleased 
to intrust the fame of Demosthenes and Cicero to his 
comrades. 

It had been planned from the outstart that Mason 
should enter Harvard upon the completion of his course 
at the Latin School ; but after some reflection his parents 
decided that for several reasons it would be wiser to 
postpone his application for admission till two years later. 
He was as yet both young and small, and, moreover, was 
hardly as well fitted as he should be, especially in the 
mathematics and some other elementary requirements. 
Further preparation would add strength to his body, 
maturity to his mind, and, it was hoped, would also 
enable him to shorten his college career by joining the 
sophomore class. In pursuance of this idea, Mason, on 
leaving school, continued his studies, in conjunction with 
two others who had the same object in view and had 
been with him under Master Gould, — Henry W. Sargent 
and Theodore W. Snow. The new arrangement was 
begun under the guidance of Mr. William Wells, who, 
like Dr. Fisher, had been born in England, but, having 
come to Boston when young, had fitted for Harvard and 
graduated there in 1796, at the somewhat advanced age 
of twenty-three. He had the reputation of a ripe scholar 
and an able teacher. Early in the present century he had 
also become a bookseller, and formed a partnership with a 
Mr. Lilly. For many years they kept a shop on Court 
Street, and achieved a most creditable position as pub- 
lishers, by bringing out the works of several ancient 
authors. This connection lasted till 1827, when Mr. 
Wells removed to Cambridge, and established there, in 
the old Ruggles mansion, a school for young ladies. In 
1825 he was taking such private pupils as offered them- 
selves at his house on Summer Street, adjoining that of 
Daniel Webster, though he also was carrying on a private 
school in Hawley Street, behind Trinity Church, at the 



ENTRANCE AT HARVARD. 19 

same time. To his residence Mason and his comrades 
were accustomed to resort daily, from one till two, and 
also between seven and eight in the evening. Here 
they imparted to Mr. Wells the acquisitions of the day, 
as he was taking his tea, and received such instruction as 
he thought necessary. This "studying out" — which was 
the expression used in reference to those who were pre- 
paring for advanced standing in college — was continued 
till July, 1827, when Mason and his two associates applied 
for admission at Harvard. He passed a good examination, 
and was admitted into the sophomore class without con- 
ditions, — a result satisfactory to Mason and presumably 
surprising to Master Gould, 1 who could have hardly an- 
ticipated such an unconditional success. 

1 Seldom has there been a record of more complete achievement than that of 
Mr. Gould. Rarely has a life been more symmetrically rounded out to the end. 
Its close was as the sunset of a peaceful day ; and the honor, love, obedience, 
troops of friends that gathered about him revealed the copious ripeness of its fruits. 
Happy in his past and in his present, he was also happy in the vigorous promise of 
him who bore his name, and who was destined to illustrate with peculiar signifi- 
cance and success the sic itur ad astra of his favorite poet. He was not forgotten 
of those who had benefited by his labors. On the 4th of May, 1853 (six years 
before his death), his portrait — the result of a popular subscription — was added 
to the gallery then in the hall of the Latin School on Bedford Street. Among the 
numerous testimonials then offered of the respect and esteem which a quarter of a 
century had not been able to diminish, Mr. Gould had the pleasure of receiving the 
following from Hon. Charles Francis Adams, which is valuable both from its source 
and its truth, as the echo of the general voice : — 

" Of all the teachers of my youth, and I had many from the circumstances of 
my frequent change of residence, I recollect no one as having been of any material 
service to me except Mr. Gould. I came to him in 1817, fresh from a large school 
in England, where I learned nothing but habits of negligence. . . . Mr. Gould had 
the happy faculty of acting upon the individual character, as well as upon the gen- 
eral progress of his scholars. He corrected their errors at the same time that he 
stimulated their good purposes with a degree of tact which falls to the share of few 
instructors. Had I been steadily with him I should have saved years of later 
labors to remedy but imperfectly the deficiencies of boyhood." 



CHAPTER II. 

YOUTHFUL CHARACTERISTICS AND ATTACHMENTS. — LOSS 

OF HEALTH. 

When Mason left the Latin School at the age of four- 
teen, he was to all appearance as rugged and healthy as 
any of his family. His youthful bloom had not yet begun 
to struggle with coming illness and the cares of life, and 
his elastic spirits seemed the natural overflow of a spring 
of exuberant vigor, which flushed his cheeks and bright- 
ened his speaking eyes. He was a handsome boy, with 
a countenance clearly outlined, and a form which, though 
slight, was symmetrical and well nourished. Light brown 
hair with a strong tendency to curl, and large bright 
blue eyes, — his most distinctive mark, and at that period 
displaying no shade of the melancholy which afterwards 
lent them an added grace, — enhanced a charm of feature 
and expression which made him most pleasing to the eye 
and a model of buoyant youth. 

It was perhaps but natural that Mason should be the 
favorite of his mother, and that she should lavish upon 
him the full measure of an affection which nothing could 
exceed. When he was well, the endearments of her 
watchful love were unlimited. Was he ill ? She nursed 
him with many a devoted attention and soft caress, fore- 
seeing his slightest want and gently provident of every 
possible relief. She summoned her friends to play the 
music that he liked best. From the rich depths of her 
tenderness she brought forth stories without end, which 
dilated even his large eyes with wonder ; or again, she 



ATTACHMENT TO HIS MOTHER. 21 

soothed the tedious hours with choice harmonies from 
her cherished poets. At times she produced a marvel- 
lous scrap-book, the work of her own hands, crammed 
with treasures ; or she took from its hiding-place a small 
red trunk, containing her jewelry and a store of glitter- 
ing knick-knacks irresistible to a child. Spreading these 
on the bed, she brooded over him, eager to explain and 
anxious to beguile. To the end of his days this book 
and trunk were inexpressibly dear to her son, from these 
associations. With a longing which all the distractions of 
foreign travel and even the charms of Paris itself could 
not efface, he wrote to his mother a request that she 
would send him the former as an invaluable souvenir 
of the home she had made so enjoyable. This she did ; 
and he guarded it carefully during his absence, and 
brought it back with him to Boston. It still bears the 
autograph, rich in meaning to those who knew him, " J. 
Mason Warren, Paris, 1832." The little coffer, also, he 
ever kept in his possession, as a sort of reliquary and 
reminder of happy days. Shortly before his death he 
confided it with a few impressive words to his niece, who 
he was well aware would cherish it for his sake. In his 
journal one reads this entry: — 

" May 20, 1867. — Gave to Veronica Dwight the little red 
trunk formerly belonging to my mother, in which she kept 
her valuables, and which I have had over thirty-six years." 

Thus strong and lasting was Mason's filial loyalty. 
While his mother lived, they clung to each other with 
an undying and ever-increasing attachment. She twined 
herself about the inmost recesses of his nature, and never 
left that fitting home which he gave her in his heart of 
hearts ; while he adorned her with the abundant graces 
of his affection and the comfort of his endless gratitude. 
When she had passed from earth, he threw himself pros- 
trate in his sorrow and gave full vent to his grief, saying, 
" There was nothing she ever refused me." Her memory, 



22 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

consecrated by many a tear, he regarded as an inherit- 
ance richer than aught earthly could bestow, and to the 
end he bewailed her loss as beyond all solace. 

During Mason's first sojourn in Europe his mother, at 
his request, had her miniature taken and sent to him. It 
was painted on ivory, and is now in the possession of 
Mrs. Warren. Mile. Lalanne, a Parisian who had gained 
much fame in Boston by the finish of her work and the 
perfection of her likenesses, was the artist. From this 
portrait one can infer another reason for the peculiar 
warmth of the mother's feeling for her son, in the iden- 
tity of their features. He had her complexion and her 
light brown curly hair. The large blue eyes character- 
istic of him were also hers ; and so were the mouth, the 
nose, the high forehead, the general contour of the face, 
and even the manner of carrying the head. In one every 
outline was more or less a repetition of the other. As 
to all his physical attributes, he was a Mason and not 
a Warren ; and this, of course, formed another tie of 
strength between them, though, oddly enough, his ex- 
pression did not at all resemble that of his mother. Still 
less, however, did he at any age recall his father either in 
look or lineament, though in certain respects he did bear 
some likeness to his grandfather, Dr. John Warren. 

That Mason was adored by his sisters might well have 
been inferred. He was ever their gallant friend and pro- 
tector, with an abiding sense of duty towards them. 
Affectionate and demonstrative by nature, he was con- 
stantly proffering little courtesies most acceptable from 
a brother, and in numerous ways displaying a deferential 
politeness peculiarly his own. Doubtless he benefited 
quite as much as they by the closeness of this intimacy ; 
and to it may be safely attributed a large share of that 
tact, almost womanly in its delicacy, with which he was 
even at that early age so amply endowed, and which is 
so often superior to mere manly wisdom. From this 






HIS BROTHEK SULLIVAN. 23 

source may also have come the popularity with both 
sexes, for which he was afterwards so noted, and which 
gave him equal rank either as friend or physician with 
all his patients, of whatever class or condition. 1 

Mason's regard for his brother Sullivan was another 
instance of that family affection which was so conspicuous 
in his character. Though slight of form and stature, and 
nearly two years younger than Mason, Sullivan was dar- 
ing and mischievous, always getting into scrapes and 
always in need of a protector. This was his normal con- 
dition from his infancy. He favored the tops of the 
tallest trees, the roofs of the highest houses and barns, 
the depths of the profoundest waters. Being impetuous 
and aggressive in disposition, and seldom stopping to 
reflect, his audacious attacks on boys older than himself 
often provoked prompt retaliation. Never was an ally 
more sorely needed than by him, and never was a feeble 
power better provided in that respect. At every emer- 
gency Mason was ready to adopt this role, and come for- 
ward as defender or rescuer. He helped his brother 
down ; he helped him up ; he helped him out. No boy 
was too old or too large for Mason to assail in Sullivan's 
defence, and thus many a time did the pair succeed in 
plucking victory from the jaws of defeat. The Frog 
Pond was frequently the scene of these fraternal sacrifices. 
This sacred water was then a widely expanding pool, of 
ambiguous margin and uncertain bottom. Indeed, the 
proud Bostonians of that day, who regarded it as the lake 
on the shores of which the Common was situated, thought 
it to be absolutely destitute of any bottom at all. It was 
unpaved and without curbstones, while the accumulated 
mud of ages displayed a tenacity and richness of which 

1 In a letter from Edinburgh, soon after his first arrival there, Mason writes : 
" Emily's letter gave me great pleasure. I am happy to find that she remembers 
' those little attentions,' as she calls them. I only wish they had been greater. I 
often repent of my omissions in former days. My love to her. I should like to 
hear from her oftener." 



24 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

these degenerate days know nothing. The amphibious 
animals whose name it continues to bear, despite the 
numerous efforts of the city euphuists to change it, yet 
found it an agreeable resort, and the long summer even- 
ings were melodious with the expression of their delight. 
To Sullivan Warren this was a most captivating retreat, 
and he probably knew more of its true inwardness than 
any other boy then living. From its succulent recesses he 
was often drawn by his brother, dripping with unctuous 
blackness, like a young Triton in his cups, — an object dis- 
tasteful and in a measure appalling, though, sad to say, 
far from repentant. Yet Mason never reproached him, 
all the more that he rather sympathized with adventures 
of this nature, and, if the truth were told, was ever ready 
to take a leading part, should one come in his way, 
though, he being the elder, the suggestions of the adver- 
sary generally assumed in his brain a form of more 
decided originality. One summer's afternoon, when 
there was plenty of leisure, and no very satisfactory way 
of using it, he proposed that they should mount to the 
upper story of their father's house, and snatch a little 
surreptitious enjoyment. Bearing the elements of suc- 
cess in the shape of a pail of water and a large syringe 
from the surgery, they soon reached the scene of action. 
It was a holiday, and crowds were passing to and fro. 
Filling the machine, they impelled its contents skywards 
with right good-will, while, taking care not to expose 
their sacred persons, they peered through the blinds to 
watch the effect. This was repeated, till several fastidi- 
ous and excitable souls on whom the water had fallen 
knocked at the Doctor's door to present their cases and 
inquire the meaning of this extraordinary phenomenon. 
Making a rapid diagnosis, Dr. Warren was not long in 
forming an opinion as to the nature of the complaint. 
Determined to strike at the root thereof, he seized a cane 
and mounted the stairs. The ponderous steps of paternal 



DEATH OF SULLIVAN WAKEEN. 25 

vengeance, slow but relentless, were soon audible to 
Mason and his brother; and the speedy retreat that 
ensued worked a complete and permanent cure of the 
whole evil. 1 

The numberless good offices for which he was Mason's 
debtor were never forgotten by Sullivan. He retained 
to the last a sense of his brother's untiring devotion 
which nothing could impair. Ever keenly present to his 
mind, it outlived long and repeated separations, the cares 
of life, widely divided interests, and even the pangs of 
impending death. Years after their youth had been 
spent, when taking his final farewell of Mason, who had 
exhausted all the resources of his art to save him, Sulli- 
van gathered force from the depths of his weakness to 
murmur his gratitude. In hardly audible accents, and 

1 It is worthy of mention that a similar taste for practical diversions was 
manifested in early youth by Sir Astley Cooper ("the Napoleon of surgery/' as 
he was styled by his countrymen), a fact of some interest in this connection 
from his intimacy with the Warrens. The acquaintance dated from 1799, when 
Dr. John C. Warren first visited Europe and began his attendance at Guy's Hos- 
pital, where Sir Astley, then Mr. Cooper, already occupied a prominent position. 
In the following year, when the latter succeeded his uncle, Mr. William Cooper, 
as surgeon and lecturer at Guy's, Dr. Warren became his first pupil. He was then 
"a young man of the greatest natural abilities, and almost adored at the hospi- 
tals." Though he was ten years older than Dr. Warren, their acquaintance 
quickly ripened into a friendship founded on congenial tastes and mutual 
esteem, which never ceased to gain steadily in strength till Sir Astley's death 
in 1841. In this friendship Dr. Mason Warren participated, and Sir Astley 
omitted no opportunity to testify his regard for the father through attentions be- 
stowed upon the son. His kindness was extended even to the former's friends ; 
and Dr. Edward Warren, writing to Dr. John C. from London in 1830, says : " I 
have heard from all the Americans who have seen Sir Astley, that he is constantly 
making mention of you, and that he treats those who bring letters from you with 
particular attention." As to the youthful exploits of Sir Astley, we read that 
" he was the son of a clergyman of Yarmouth, where upon one occasion the church 
bells began to ring so vehemently as to alarm the inhabitants, who ran in great 
numbers to the parsonage to inquire of the minister the cause of such terrific 
peals from the steeple. ' Oh ! ' said the reverend gentleman, ' I have no doubt it 
is all the work of that mischievous wag of mine, Master Astley, and his hopeful 
playmate, Tom Goodfellow.' Accordingly, upon ascending the steeple it was 
found, as predicted, that the boys were busily at work, full swing, pulling and 
hauling the rope in fine style, and amazingly delighted at the stir and sensation 
they were creating throughout the town, and the trouble they were giving to the 
honest citizens." 



26 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

they were almost the last he uttered, he whispered : " It 
is a useless thing for me to say, Mason; but I thank 
you not only for what you have done for me now, but 
throughout my whole life." The mutual affection of 
these brothers nor tongue nor pen could adequately de- 
scribe. As to Mason it was a motive power of his whole 
being. Like that divine ardor mentioned by the poet, — 

" Quel caldo 
Che fa nascere i fiori e i frutti santi," 

it was the source of a thousand generous acts and kindly 
influences. Nothing could surpass his sorrow and de- 
spair when he became conscious that their earthly union 
was about to be dissolved, in spite of all the hopes, the 
prayers, the sacrifices, the infinite exertions he had lav- 
ished to prolong it. Sullivan's death, which preceded 
his own by but a few weeks, had a most depressing effect 
upon him, and he was never the same again. The shock, 
added to the disease from which he was already suffering, 
shattered the very foundations of life, and his sensitive 
nature could not long survive it. They "were lovely 
and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were 
not divided." 

This unflagging affection for those nearest to him may 
truly be called the chief mainspring of Mason Warren's 
career, from his youngest to his latest days. Like a broad 
stream, its swelling flood pervaded and fertilized his whole 
being. It was ever the stimulus to fresh exertions and 
gentle deeds of a beneficence most rare. Enlarging his 
sympathies, kindling his whole soul into perfect action, 
promoting a liberal charity towards the failings of others, 
softening the pains and hardships of life, it bestowed both 
upon himself and those around him in this world the bless- 
ings so often withheld till the next. He was, in fact, a 
pertinent illustration of the truth which shrewd wisdom 
has revealed for our learning : — 



CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS. 21 

" One grand, invaluable secret there is, however, which in- 
cludes all the rest, and, what is comfortable, lies clearly in every 
man's power : To have an open loving heart, and what follows 
from the possession of such! Truly it has been said, emphati- 
cally in these days it ought to be repeated : ' A Loving Heart is 
the beginning of all knowledge. This it is that opens the whole 
mind, quickens every faculty of the intellect to do its fit work, 
that of knowing, and therefrom, by sure consequence, of vividly 
uttering forth.'* " 

" The mind has a thousand eyes, 
And the heart but one ; 
Yet the light of a whole life dies 
When love is done." 

With a temperament thus affectionate and impressible, 
it is almost superfluous to state that Mason was popular 
and beloved, not merely in his own domestic circle, but 
far beyond it. His every trait insured such a result. To 
love and to be loved were to him the very essence of life. 
His manners were winning, nay, irresistible, from his boy- 
hood. There was a genial contagion in his voice, the 
grasp of his hand, his look, his simple presence. He had 
that touch of Nature which makes the whole world kin. 
He was one of Thackeray's boys, " brave and gentle, 
warm-hearted and loving, and looking the w r orld in the 
face with kind honest eyes." There was a cordial vivac- 
ity in his welcome which excited the deepest springs of 
kind feeling. He charmed his associates from the first, 
gliding quickly into their hearts by a sort of magnetism, 
which wrought nimbly upon them and caused them to for- 
get that he was only the acquaintance of the moment, 
revealing him, in sooth, as the apparent friend of years, 
for whose return they had long been looking. He was at 
all times the good fellow and boon companion, the laugh- 
ing humorist tinctured with a jovial wit that brought no 
satiety. Gay and sprightly, he was endowed with gentle- 
manly ways and a self-respect that brooked no liberties. 
Of exuberant fun, piquant at intervals with a mild flavor 



28 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

of innocent mischief, he threw himself with a graceful 
earnestness and the happy abandon of warm-blooded 
youth into everything that stirred his interest, though he 
never passed the bounds of courtesy or the limits of be- 
coming mirth. His impulses were habitually correct, and 
his aspirations such as might have been the creditable 
offspring of maturer years. He was of perfect veracity 
in thought, word and deed. Singularly sweet of dispo- 
sition, he harbored no idea of ill towards others. The 
atmosphere that surrounded him was like the even kindli- 
ness of the summer-time. Incapable of malice or jealousy, 
he revolted at anything ignoble. He was a " despiser of 
sorry persons and little actions." He was refined as to 
thought, word, and speech, while his moral tone was high 
and clear. Having a delicate organization, his act ever 
swayed level with his instinct ; and conscious of manly 
aims, he never allowed himself, even when a boy, to be 
unduly disturbed or provoked to anger. The myriad 
attractions of his society flowed on with the involuntary 
impulse of an unfailing fount, and had a strange power to 
draw forth that answering love and brightness which his 
nature unwittingly generated, and which he craved with 
such avidity in return. 

" His was the charm magnetic, the bright look 
That sheds its sunshine." 

From his earliest years Mason was of a broad cordial 
type, rich in promise. All saw in him that which they 
themselves would gladly have been. There was a certain 
healing in his friendship. He was a born optimist, with 
unlimited capacity for quaffing joy from innocent pleas- 
ures ; an epicurean without taint of luxury or sensuality. 
To him this was no dead, unprofitable world, but radiant 
with images of genuine fruition and suggestions of truth 
and grace. Life was intense, full of a graphic meaning. 
Merely to be was to him a continual feast. He felt the 



DECLINING HEALTH. 29 

charm of music, of flowers, which were peculiarly dear 
to him, and of every aspect of beauty, animate or in- 
animate. He ate and drank with a dainty satisfaction 
wherein was nothing gross. The perfect neatness of his 
dress was leavened with taste, and in this respect, as in 
numerous others, the boy foreshadowed the dawning man. 
Sparkling with happy suggestions, void of every meanness, 
open, trusting, and ingenuous, profusely scattering the 
light that seemed naturally to gather about him, he ap- 
pealed to each one's better part, and never in vain. 

As has before been intimated and might well have been 
inferred, the life of a youth thus attractively gifted and 
so conciliatory in its conduct, with no antagonisms, no 
ill-will, no crude harshness to encounter, — a life which 
adapted itself with equal harmony and sympathy to all, — 
moved on smoothly, with little of incident to record. 
" Centred in the sphere of common duties," his early 
days passed away like soft vernal showers, which, gently 
descending in glittering rays, vanish in fructifying peace 
and leave no trace of storm or whirlwind. 

Such were the chief features, mental and physical, of 
Mason Warren during his boyhood ; and such they prin- 
cipally continued to be, at least mentally, ever growing 
with his growth and strengthening with his strength. 

Unhappily the fair auspices that had surrounded Mason 
up to his early manhood and almost until his entrance 
at Harvard were fated to disappear, and declining health 
soon began to cloud his prospects of a college course. 
The more obvious cause of this sad disappointment was 
dyspepsia, though there were others more remote to 
which it was also to be attributed. So grave did his 
condition quickly become, that he had been connected 
with his class barely three months when he was obliged 
to leave it. 1 He did not return to his studies, and the 

1 The warmth of Dr. Warren's sympathies and his genial nature led him ever to 
retain in after life a vivid regard for those from whom he had been thus abruptly 



30 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

opportunities so highly appreciated and so unwillingly 
relinquished he never ceased to bewail. For more than 
a year his bodily forces had been gradually giving way, 
and a certain weakness of constitution, before unsus- 
pected, had developed itself. The original trouble had 
been much increased by irregular habits of diet and by 
injudicious treatment, especially in the matter of medi- 
cine, which, though prescribed with most laudable mo- 
tives, had a very different effect from that designed. 
During the two closing years of Mason's attendance at 
the Latin School, he had much to do ; and though pass- 
ing unnoticed for the time, his tasks were probably more 
than he could accomplish without an undue strain upon 
his powers. The sessions were more numerous and 
longer than now, while the boys were also expected to 
study at home. The work was generally more difficult 
than at present ; and several ancient authors, at this time 
thought unnecessary or even unprofitable in a prepara- 
tory course, were then required to be studied with no 
slight diligence. There was much cramming, tiresome 
in every sense to the majority, and barren of substantial 
gain to all but a few of the most talented and precocious. 
This extended even to the Latin and Greek grammars, 
which were enforced ad nauseam ; and hundreds of dreary 
rules w^ere committed to memory, — a penance, as it were, 
which should be only too gladly performed by those for 

separated. His feelings for the class of 1830, in which he would have graduated, 
were strong to the last; and lie always took care to attend its meetings, convivial 
and other, whenever it was in his power to do so. It was his desire to identify 
himself with its members as closely as if nothing had occurred to end his connection 
with them. In his journal kept when in Paris, we read, under date of Nov. 30, 
1832 : " My old classmate, Henry McLellan, has just arrived liere from Italy, where 
he met Susan. She sent me a small cameo ring for auld lang syne. Henry and I 
passed our class in review. They are now scattered over the world, some married, 
some still students, while a few are no longer living. They have mostly turned 
out well." He derived an especial pleasure from being chosen to preside at a supper 
of the class at the Exchange Coffee House, on the evening of July 17, 1850. 
When, in 1844, he received the degree of A.M. from Harvard, he welcomed the 
honor with much satisfaction, as also he did his election into the ranks of the Phi 
Beta Kappa Society in 1849. 



STUDYING OUT. 31 

whom such inestimable blessings were reserved in the 
en d ? — a wilderness through which every one must pass 
who cared to reach the promised land. To all this must 
be added the peremptory grinding out of hundreds of 
Latin verses. Of course, but little time was left for any- 
thing but the classics ; and it may truthfully be said that 
these were first, the rest nowhere, though, from regard 
to fastidious utilitarians, certain claims of the English 
tongue were acknowledged, and attention was professedly 
paid to reading, writing, and arithmetic. Thus it hap- 
pened that Cummings' Geography and Euler's Algebra 
appeared in the multitude of ancient authors, and could 
be dimly distinguished, ran nantes in gurgite vasto, among 
scores of the productions of antiquity, ranging from " Yiri 
Romse " and " Selectee e Profanis " to the Greek Testament, 
Homer's Iliad, and the Anabasis of Xenophon. But, on 
the whole, these moderns hardly held their own ; and 
Master Gould seems to have shown as little consideration 
for the vernacular in any shape as if he thought, with 
Dogberry, that "to write and read comes by nature." 
The natural outcome of this system was that those who 
wished to make any particular progress in the element- 
ary branches of the English tongue were obliged to seek 
the means thereof elsewhere, and that at such intervals of 
time as they could snatch from the more exacting claims 
of the Muses. 1 With this object in view, Mason and 
many of his fellows were accustomed to resort to instruc- 
tors who taught these studies when their school was not 
in session. One of them was the Mr. Wells before men- 
tioned as having given the final touches to Mason's 
preparatory studies, who, although an accomplished stu- 
dent and admirer of the classics, was not so entirely 
joined to his idols as to ignore the claims of other and 

1 This had been the custom when Mason's father was at the Latin School ; and 
his biographer informs us that he entered it " at the age of eight years, going at 
midday to Master Carter to learn writing and arithmetic." 



32 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

lesser divinities. To hiin Mason, two years before he 
left the Latin School, daily went for an hour or more at 
noon. As the second session began at two o'clock, the 
most important meal of the three was neglected ; and 
Mason, at an age when nourishing food was imperatively 
demanded, often had no dinner at all, or, which was 
nearly as bad, was driven to allay his cravings with apples, 
cakes, or gingerbread, or some other delusive and per- 
nicious substitute, snatched and devoured on the wing 
without regard to the consequences. Such an irregularity 
could hardly be long continued, even by the most rugged 
youth, without leading to serious results ; and in Mason's 
case, though these did not make themselves apparent for 
some time, being partly kept concealed by his nervous 
force and gayety of spirits, they finally caused a deplor- 
able loss of health. The symptoms had already become 
quite formidable before any particular attention had been 
excited by his condition, though his father would doubt- 
less have observed them had he not been absorbed by 
the endless and exhausting labors which were entailed 
by his professional reputation, then at its height. And 
even when he realized the actual state of his son, the 
means he adopted for his cure were such as to prove in 
the end almost worse than the disease, and to wellnigh 
insure his final taking-off, though they were employed 
with the most earnest hopes of success, and were in strict 
accord with the prevailing practice of that time. As to 
medicine, Mason was favored with far too much, while 
of food there was too little. The views of physicians 
were then radically different from those now in vogue ; 
and their mistakes were so frequent, albeit entirely un- 
suspected, that their route might well be said to be 
marked, like that of the pilgrims to Mecca, by wrecks 
and whitening bones. The quantity of medicine once 
prescribed by the faculty and taken by their patients 
strikes us as simply monstrous. Of this custom, Mason 



LAVISH USE OF MEDICINE. 33 

Warren, with his weak digestion, was to a certain extent a 
victim ; and it is probable that he never entirely recovered 
from its pernicious effects. It is not strange that later in 
life, while referring to the evils of the method employed 
for his cure, he should have remarked to a professional 
friend, " It is our mission to rectify the mistakes of our 
predecessors/' — a remark called forth not only by his own 
experience, but by that of thousands of others who had 
suffered protracted martyrdom and premature decay from 
this source. 

For this the medical profession were no more account- 
able than the people themselves, who from the earliest 
period of our history had a weakness for medicine and a 
firm resolve not to live without it. The blessings it was 
thought to confer were innumerable, and, as an essential 
aid to imperfect nature and the results of original sin, 
could not be over-estimated. Our worthy fathers contin- 
ually had in mind that ancient precept, " The Lord hath 
created medicines out of the earth, and he that is wise 
will not abhor them," which, though not admitted by the 
learned to be the words of inspiration, in the opinion of 
our ancestors bore the marks of a more than human 
origin. This feeling was already conspicuous in the time 
of the Pilgrims, and it steadily gained ground with their 
posterity for many generations. The early clergy, the 
colonial governors (particularly John Winthrop, the Salve 
Imperator of Connecticut, with his yellow ointment), even 
the Presidents of Harvard College, were in the habit of 
insinuating their peculiar and plausible compositions into 
the bosoms of their friends and followers. As has been 
truly said, u They felt that their work could not be com- 
plete without sufficient knowledge of the healing art to 
enable them to meet any emergency which might arise, 
and to secure the entire respect and esteem of the com- 
munity in which they lived." Among our more imme- 
diate ancestors the profession increased both in numbers 

3 



34 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

and ability, and so did the resources commanded by its 
members. The people at large came to think that a tan- 
gible and substantial cure could be, and ought to be, pro- 
vided for every bodily ailment. Naturally they took a 
large share of the practice into their own hands, and the 
issue often showed them to be more kind than wise. A 
preventive policy of a liberal type seemed to them emi- 
nently desirable, and this made them quick to detect from 
afar the signs of coming disease. Whether they were in 
good health or bad, they took a singular pleasure in dos- 
ing themselves and each other, kindly ministering to their 
mutual needs in no stinted measure, while the children 
with secret joy sipped what was left in the cup, and cor- 
dially toned down their too rugged constitutions. Thus, 
when blooming youth was snatched away, it often hap- 
pened that an overdose was the cause of the abrupt 
demise, though they deferentially attributed it to Provi- 
dence. The same might not unfrequently have been said 
of older persons, no longer living, whose gravestones in 
many an instance might have borne the inscription once 
certainly recorded with truth, " I was well ; I wished to be 
better, and here I am." Like the physician of Monsieur 
de Pourceaugnac, they considered it a bad sign when the 
patient did not perceive that he was ill, and sought to 
bring the conviction home to him in every available way. 
In those days there were numerous remedies which en- 
joyed a popular fame ; and among them senna and glauber 
salts, known as the " black draught," held a higher rank 
perhaps than any other, as a general panacea and univer- 
sal detergent. These went hand in hand on their pro- 
fusely beneficent mission, — an "angelical conjunction," as 
Cotton Mather might have termed it. In every household 
with any pretence to a good sanitary status, these elegant 
extracts were constantly within call. In that of Dr. John 
C. Warren a nice little saucepan of seductive senna was 
at all hours kept by the thrifty housewife in a persuasive 



DISUSE OF FOOD. 35 

bubble on the hob, ready for the first intimations of cor- 
poreal derangement. In this way it was thought that a 
subtle process of cure, even though unknown to the bene- 
ficiaries, went steadily and inevitably on ; for those who did 
not take the mixture internally could not fail to imbibe 
its steaming essence through their pores, and in the all- 
pervading aroma of health even the transient visitor en- 
tertained angels unawares. Of such sanitary provisions 
as these Mason Warren during his boyhood was favored 
with even more than the ordinary share, and none the less 
that, his father being often away in the pursuit of his 
profession, the fond mother, anxious for her favorite son, 
naturally sought to make good his absence, and maternal 
solicitude doubled the dose which of itself was far more 
than enough. 

In addition to these dubious means for the confirma- 
tion or recovery of his health, Mason was subjected to a 
dietetic treatment then popular with a great majority of the 
profession, — a treatment which now appears quite as ex- 
traordinary as the liberal infusion of drugs into his system. 
Its principal feature was a general abstention from food. 
Of this Dr. John C. Warren was always a warm advocate, 
and he never ceased to urge it upon his patients to the 
end of his career. He regarded it as an essential element 
in the management of every disease, and omitted no op- 
portunity to commend it to his son. Even while the 
latter was in Paris, this was often the burden of the let- 
ters he received from his father, who regarded the habit 
of temperance as not merely a cure, but a preventive. 
Writing in regard to the death of a much lamented young 
physician of peculiar promise, he observes : — 

" I have no doubt that both his attacks were brought on by 
too free a use of wine and food, and I mention this to you the 
more distinctly because I feel apprehensive of your suffering in 
the same way. Young persons confident in youth and strength 
ridicule the hints and warnings of experience ; or if they do not 



36 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

do thus, they forget them in the ardor of their pursuits. Provi- 
dence has kindly spared you more than once, when most criti- 
cally situated. It now lies with you to spare yourself by a life of 
steady temperance as to liquid and abstinence from solid food." 

Again he says: "Eat little and avoid wine. Recollect 
that health of body and a good conscience are necessary 
to the accomplishment of great work." In another letter, 
" Be careful of dinner-parties. Health is easily lost and 
hardly regained." In Mason's youth his father rode this 
hobby to excess ; and it certainly did not tend to promote 
his son's recovery from the illness which now afflicted 
him. His food was slowly reduced in quantity and in 
quality as his stomach grew weaker, till he was suffered to 
eat nothing but plain boiled rice with a pinch of salt and 
a little sugar thrice a day. At last, as he became more 
and more feeble, even the sugar was denied him, and 
then, partly from prostration, partly one may well sup- 
pose from utter disgust, he could no longer restrain his 
tears. The consummation of all this would undoubtedly 
have been the annihilation of dyspepsia and every other 
ailment then and forever, had it not been decided, as a 
forlorn hope, to test the effects of a voyage to Cuba. He 
had now grown so languid as to be unable to sit upright. 
His emaciation w r as such that he seemed " nothing but 
skin and bone and eyes.'' Too weak to walk, he was car- 
ried to the vessel on a mattress, his lustrous orbs still 
gleaming with the light of young hope, and peering wist- 
fully into the future with spirits that held their own 
against all his exhaustion. Thus, like David of old, he 
became " a stranger unto his brethren and an alien unto 
his mother's children ; for the zeal of his house had eaten 
him up." 



CHAPTER III. 

CUBA. — NEWPORT. PROFESSIONAL STUDIES. GRADU- 
ATION AT THE MEDICAL SCHOOL. 

Mason sailed for Cuba in March, 1828, with his elder 
brother; and they reached Havana on the 23d of that 
month. Once on shipboard and beyond the reach of 
medication and the tactics of maternal fondness, he soon 
began to revive. Constitutionally he displayed a good 
reaction, and his naturally sanguine temperament availed 
him more than a dozen doctors. In his new state of 
emancipation he could not only eat sugar on his rice, 
but reject the whole delusion with impunity, and choose 
the food he liked. Rhubarb and senna vanished with 
his father's roof-tree ; and the sea-air that replaced 
them proved an admirable tonic, extorting latent drugs 
from every pore. On reaching his destination he found 
himself already on the way to recovery ; nor did his 
progress in that direction cease during his stay in the 
island. April 1, he wrote to his mother : — 

" We have now been here a week, and are both in much 
better health than when we left Boston. My health in par- 
ticular is so much better, and my looks so much improved that 
I think you would scarcely know me. I have gained consider- 
able flesh, and suffer very slightly from indigestion in com- 
parison to what I did at home. ... I gain more and more 
daily, and hope that in the course of a fortnight I shall be 
wholly well." 

The young men were received into the house of Mr. 
William Savage, to whom they had taken letters of intro- 



38 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

duction. They were treated with every possible hospi- 
tality, and nothing was left undone to promote the 
objects of their visit. Under date of April 6, their host 
informs Dr. Warren that Mason " is in good spirits and 
exceedingly interesting, and there is nothing that we 
would not all do for him. . . . They have now been in 
the island a fortnight, and this morning they drove out 
to the beautiful coffee estates of Mr. Nathaniel Fellowes, 
about thirty miles from this city." Dr. Osgood, who was 
particularly attentive to their wants and devoted to 
Mason, also writes, April 14 : — 

" Since his arrival he has gained a great deal in strength and 
fulness of habit. He has taken no medicine except a few 
doses of castor oil mixed with hot coffee. Wc bake the unsifted 
flour you sent me, and I find it makes very good bread. It is 
such as the wrestlers used in old times for strengthening the 
limbs." i 

The sons continued their stay in Cuba until the end of 
April, when they took passage in a small vessel for New 
York, leaving with infinite regret the tropical luxuriance 
and bland climate of the West Indies. On Mason's arri- 
val home he was hailed as one from the dead ; for his 
friends, and especially his mother, had scarcely expected 
to behold him again on this side of the grave, so sad had 
been his condition when they bade him farewell. They 
rejoiced in his returning life ; and it was matter of thank- 
ful congratulation, both to them and to him, that during 
all this illness his spirits had not lost their accustomed 
buoyancy, while the serene confidence of youth still faced 
the future with a trust that saw nothing beyond its 
powers. 

1 This bread was made of unbolted wheat ; and Dr. John C. Warren was the 
first of his profession to set its merits before the world, and insist on its use in a 
certain class of complaints. In his " Biographical Notes " he thus refers to it : 
"About the year 1825 I found out the use of bread made of unbolted flour, and 
introduced it into Boston, though with great difficulty and much ridicule." 



NEWPORT. 39 

As it was desirable that his health should be thoroughly 
established and not overtasked by too great exertion, 
Mason spent the next few months in comparative idle- 
ness and general recreation. A large part of the summer 
saw him at Castle Hill, the farm of his grandfather, 
Governor Collins, near Newport, whither he went with 
his mother. This was situated on the high and massive 
uplands, about three miles east of the town, which stand 
well out in the ocean, towards which they broadly slope 
in nearly every direction. Nothing could be grander 
than the view they offer, or more cool and invigorating 
than the breezes that sweep over them ; and, as had been 
hoped, the reviving air materially aided Mason's progress. 
In August his mother informed her husband that he was 
" in fine health, and has gained flesh." " I have been 
very well since my stay in Newport," wrote Mason, 
"much better than at any time during the last three 
years, excepting the cold on my lungs, which I find im- 
possible to get rid of." To this may be added another 
letter to his father, which shows his moral tone and natural 
strength of character. It bears date Aug. 21, 1828 : — 

"You mentioned in your last letter to Mamma your fears and 
a caution to me against gaming and drinking ; against these I 
think that I am secure, having been sufficiently tried during 
my residence at the Havana among a gaming and licentious 
set, and where, when sick with nothing to do, having been often 
tempted to engage in cards and billiards for the sake of some 
excitement, I have never consented. My playing billiards at 
Nahant, to which I suppose you refer, was but for a few times, 
and then only for the sake of exercise and amusement, but 
never for gaming. I have been often tempted to drink both 
wine and brandy abroad and at sea, when sick, but have always 
abstained from them only after dinner and then sparingly, 
except claret and water, which for the want of good water was 
necessary. 1 ... In permitting me to be my own master so 

1 In this age few can thoroughly appreciate the self-control and independence 
of character required in Mason Warren's day to abstain entirely from alcoholic 



40 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

much during this last year, and being so much indulged, I have 
felt that a great deal of confidence had been reposed in me, and 
have endeavored that it should not be misused. I hope you will 
find it not misplaced." 

Farther on, in reference to his own disappointed wishes 
for a college education, he says : — 

" I hope that Sullivan will fill the place that was intended 
for me. His talents are very good, and will entitle him to a 
high standing if improved. There is nothing that will be of 
more use to him than good composition, which I myself know 
from experience. I hope that he will be successful next 
Monday." 

Shortly after his return from Newport, as yet un- 
visited by the world of fashion, and where " there 
were not a dozen cottages, and the quaint little town 
dozed quietly along its bay," another opportunity pre- 
sented itself of testing that sea cure from which he had 
already derived such signal benefit. Mr. Horace Gray, 
a wealthy merchant, w T as about to sail for Europe in one 
of his own vessels with Mrs. Gray, an invalid for whose 
advantage the voyage was to be undertaken at the sug- 
gestion of her physician. Having fresh in his mind the 
result of his Cuban trip, Mason was glad to avail himself 
of the happy chance thus thrown in his way. 1 The 
auspices under which he departed were most promising ; 
but, unluckily, the issue was different from that antici- 
pated. Instead of a long absence on the other shore 
of the Atlantic, at the end of a month, much to the 
surprise of his family, he again made his appearance 

drinks as a beverage. By nearly all his associates such a course was regarded as 
" a priggish and ridiculous asceticism." He might have been socially tabooed, had 
it not been for his position and the many manly qualities that entitled him to 
esteem. 

1 On this occasion, in accordance with a custom that has now fallen into disuse, 
lie obtained a passport from the authorities of his native State, instead of the General 
Government. It was issued to him as "A Citizen of our Commonwealth, going to 
Europe," and bears date November 3, 1828, being signed by Governor Lincoln 
and giving the usual description of his person. 



PROFESSIONAL STUDIES. 41 

in Park Street, and informed them that so far from im- 
proving with the progress of her voyage, Mrs. Gray had 
grown steadily worse ; and her husband, as the only 
remedy to her acute sufferings, had ordered the ship 
to be put about in mid-ocean, and headed for home. 
Though this peremptory change in his plans caused 
much disappointment to Mason, he gained still further 
in strength thereby, and the bracing salt breezes appar- 
ently completed his cure. 

With reviving powers and fresh enthusiasm, Mason 
now gave himself unreservedly to the vocation he had 
chosen for his life's work. As to the nature of this voca- 
tion he had ever been able to see clearly, and could 
now have no possible hesitation. In this respect he 
might certainly be deemed fortunate beyond many of 
his associates. Not only the circumstances that had 
influenced him, but his own preferences from the be- 
ginning had impelled him in one direction. He was not 
like his father, who at first hated his professional studies, 
as he himself declared, and had no peculiar bias for any 
occupation, but had been urged to surgical pursuits by 
the stimulus of a good conscience and a stern sense 
of duty. To his son, on the contrary, it seemed to stand 
not within the prospect of belief that a Warren should 
be anything but a surgeon, or could fail to lend his aid 
towards perpetuating the fame, policy, and traditions 
of his family. He had imbibed his profession, as it were 
at the beginning, from the maternal breast, from the very 
air he breathed, from the silent pressure of a thousand 
hidden influences, which increased with his years, until 
he perceived that he centred the hopes of his parents 
and the prestige of their name. He began his studies 
under the guidance of his father, who was at that period 
the most eminent practitioner in New England, a man 
of Jron will, a born autocrat, who ruled the whole pro- 
fessional fraternity with a superb and absolute sway 



42 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

from which few could hope to appeal with any chance 
of success. 1 

The advantages thus open to Mason from the outstart 
were a tower of strength, and in some ways could hardly 
be overestimated, though they were to a certain degree 
offset by professional rivalry, or even by envy, jealousy, 
and personal abuse, arising from his social position and 
his connection with his father, — injuries which he did his 
best to ignore till he had asserted his own merits and 
lived them down. Dr. John C. Warren had now been for 
fifteen years the successor of his father, Dr. John Warren, 
in the chair of anatomy and surgery at the Harvard 
Medical School, then located on Mason Street, — a school 
of which the latter was the actual founder; and here 
Mason entered his name as a student in the fall of 1830, 
though continuing his studies at his father's house, where 
he not only saw much practice, but was able to contribute 
no small share thereto himself. 

To any right-minded youth thus situated there would 
have been ample cause for exertion, apart from all con- 
siderations of personal profit ; and Mason was not one to 
overlook any reasonable claim upon him, whatever form 
it might take, or from whatever source it might arise. 
He was largely conscious of the past, and hence all the 
more sensitive as to its equitable demands. Everything, 
in whatever direction he looked, tended to give him the 

i This vigorous self-assertion and tenacity of purpose, disdaining all competition, 
were peculiar to the Warrens from their earliest . history, and were undoubtedly 
main sources of their success. They were characteristic to a remarkable degree of 
Mason's grandfather. Dr. Ephraim Eliot, in his " Account of the Physicians of 
Boston" who were most eminent in his own day, — that is, at the close of the last 
century, — observes : " They did not love each other, and all were determined to put down 
Warren ; but they could not : he rose triumphant over them all." Farther on he 
adds: " One night, Dr. Rand returned home from one of these professional meetings, 
and, addressing himself to me, he said, ' Eliot, that Warren is an artful man, and will 
get to windward of us all.' " In 1783 Dr. John Warren was attacked by a fever so 
severe that his life was shortly despaired of by all the profession except Dr. Joseph 
Gardner, who shrewdly observed, " That young man is so determined to recover 
that he will succeed in spite of his disease," — a remark amply justified by the 
patient's reputation, and destined to be further illustrated by his cure. 



ANCESTRAL INFLUENCES. 43 

position of a pioneer among pioneers, — one might say 
" in the fore front of the hottest battle. " Hence success 
was impressed upon him as a sort of moral obligation, 
a duty not to be ignored. The past had asserted its 
prerogatives in a way that he could not overlook as a 
gentleman, to take no other view thereof; and he under- 
took the work that faced him with the old ancestral 
energy, conscientiousness, integrity, and lofty aims. 

Mason was proud of his lineage, and gloried in the 
illustrious name that had been bequeathed to him by the 
founders of his family. The worthy record of these 
manly sires, standing out in bold relief against the 
oblivion of time, had a deep and pregnant influence on 
his own life from its earliest years. Their glorious 
purposes and exalted characters were ever before him. 
Their names were always vividly apparent to his sight 
as they shone with undying lustre in the firmament 
where their nobility of soul and spotless aspirations had 
forever placed them. To him, by reason of their high 
endeavor, the very air was purer, the sky was clearer, 
the sun gave forth a brighter lustre. With honest 
satisfaction he never ceased to exult that he came from 
the vigorous stock of which nations are made; that his 
predecessors were good men and true, — men who thought 
no sacrifice too painful where great principles were at 
stake, — men who, stayed by the refreshment of imperish- 
able deeds and urged by a divine instinct, wrought calmly 
on, upheld by a faith that knew no fatigue, no despair, 
no change, but, confiding in an ever-present hope, looked 
with assured peace to the world beyond for their 
reward. 

Could Mason live to make so great a name as his still 
more illustrious, how splendid the return ! Here was a 
prize that might well encourage one to rise superior to 
the woes of the world and to death itself, while it might 
gild the very gloom of the grave. It was not to be his 



44 JONATHAN MASON WAREEN. 

privilege to stain with his life the consecrated ground, 
like him — 

" Whose devoted faith 
Snatched Freedom's charter from the arms of death ; " 

but there were other fields of honor to be won, and 
towards these he moved with no unsteady tread. He 
foresaw that his career was to be no play. He never 
surveyed the future through rose-colored glasses. Its 
demands and its sacrifices, no less than its laurels, were 
in every shape thoroughly appreciated and liberally 
acknowledged. It was a debt that weighed upon him 
w T ith an ever-present sense of responsibility. There 
should be no dawdling on with aimless aim. He had 
no right to leave unimproved an inheritance so rich as 
his. It should be the better for his use thereof. Thus 
it was by no means entirely from predilection that he 
gave up everything to his profession. He had other 
tastes that delighted him well, and the refining tendencies 
of which might have easily beguiled one not so strongly 
committed to the claims of duty; but to these he knew 
he must not yield, since his profession was exacting, and 
asked for all that his health could bear, leaving no sur- 
plus vigor for other studies or accomplishments. Thus 
he calmly and trustfully buckled down to his labor, 
setting his face toward the morning, and moving on w r ith 
a quiet healthy enthusiasm, burning low but intensely, 
and stimulated by its very purity. For the moment he 
flung ancestral dignity and pride of place to the winds, 
and found no detail too distasteful for his energies, pro- 
vided it could aid his progress. He was ardent with the 
glow of coming manhood ; for returning strength had also 
inflamed his ambition, — an ambition nowise diminished by 
the sight of a rising coterie of young physicians around 
him, of whom several were proving themselves almost his 
equals in promising talent and in the eagerness oi their 
aspirations. 



PATRIOTIC AIMS. 45 

The simple fact that Mason had deliberately chosen the 
surgical profession as his own was another fertile source 
of his success, and gave large promise for his future from 
the beginning. From his youth up it had been a pecu- 
liar characteristic of his mind to regard with pride and a 
most active interest everything that belonged to him by 
birth or acquirement, or was in any way closely connected 
with his daily life. It became identified with him quickly 
and forever merely from this fact, and formed as it were 
part and parcel of his very being. This view, once taken, 
he never lost ; and it naturally led him to see all his sur- 
roundings through a peculiar medium, and to magnify 
them into enlarged reality. In his eyes they were exalted 
into a rare importance simply from their connection with 
him, and it gave them a right to every form of devotion 
at his hands. This feeling was widely extended, and em- 
braced not only his family, his home, and every aspect of 
domestic interest, but his native city, his State, and coun- 
try as well. He was patriotic and public-spirited in the 
broadest sense. He was a true child of the soil. Boston 
was his city, Massachusetts was his State, New England 
was particularly his country. To each and all of these he 
was very sensible of certain duties, of which he never 
could bring himself to be negligent. It should not be his 
fault if they failed to profit by his designs for their bene- 
fit. He would ever do what he could to make these of 
the best. His love for his profession, especially in later 
years when his fame was widely extended, was deeply 
saturated with this determination. He wished to be a 
representative Bostonian, a representative citizen of his 
own State, a representative New-Englander. For the at- 
tainment of this end he shrank from no toils, no sacrifices. 
He had always before him a high standard of merit ; and 
success, should he live to secure it, would shed lustre 
not only on himself but on those others for whom he had 
striven. His honor would be their honor; and wherever 



46 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

his name might be borne it would be hailed with eulogy 
as that of one who had liberal aims and noble objects, un- 
tainted by selfish motives of personal aggrandizement. 

As Mason progressed in his medical studies he was 
highly pleased to find himself capable of a good amount 
of persistent work, both mental and bodily. He was de- 
lighted to be able to prove the truth of the maxim that 
" labor, after all, is the only thing which never palls on a 
man." He certainly needed no urging to do all that his 
powers would allow him for his advancement. Thanks 
to his father, his energies were well directed, and he was 
never obliged to grope in the dark. The benefit of his 
father's experience could not be overestimated. To one 
of his parts nothing was lost, and he soon became more 
self-reliant and capable of independent action, and thus 
able within certain limits to free himself from parental or 
other aid. He gave evidence of a dexterous hand, and of 
a judgment and sound sense remarkable for his years. It 
needed no particular shrewdness to discern his rapidly 
maturing faculties ; his intuitions, quick and clear ; an 
unfailing tact and a readiness to eliminate truth from 
uncertain theories; an unusual capacity for adapting the 
learning of the past to the uses of the present, and even 
for shedding on it some piercing light of his own. His 
prescriptions were also made out with a moderation and 
self-control remarkable in face of the temptations to which 
he was exposed. The seed had not only been sown on 
fertile soil, but was already bearing a harvest. It could 
easily be perceived that the family name would not suffer 
at his hands. By the end of three years he had made such 
obvious progress that hosts of friends, both in the profes- 
sion and out of it, bore tribute to his talents and promise 
for the future. 

In 1832 Mason graduated at the Medical School, and 
took his degree on the 25th of February, having just 
before reached his twenty-first birthday. The class num- 



RELATIONS WITH HIS FATHER. 47 

bered twenty-seven, among whom was his near friend Dr. 
Henry I. Bowditch. The subject of his thesis was " The 
Comparative Anatomy of the Digestive Organs in the 
Four Classes of Vertebral Animals," — a thorough and well- 
studied essay, written with great perspicuity, as by one 
who had full command of his material, and had wrought 
out his conclusions with love of his theme and no small 
insight into the details thereof. It was rich with quota- 
tions from the best authorities of the day, and with many 
minute facts and observations that showed the anatomical 
knowledge of the writer. It was, from every point of 
view, a creditable production, and might even now be 
perused with interest and profit by any one who sought 
to know the progress then made in the department of 
which it treated. 

As a proof of the relations existing between father and 
son, — relations that never suffered the slightest change till 
they were sundered by death, — a letter of advice is here 
given, which was addressed to Mason when he was about 
to begin his preparatory studies. It will serve to show 
his father's abiding interest in his son's material welfare ; 
the zeal that he felt for the latter's professional progress, 
and his earnest desire to lay broad and deep the founda- 
tions which his own experience had led him to believe 
essential to solid achievement in this world and peace in 
the next. 

Boston, March 27, 1830. 

Dear Mason, — Some things I have wished to say to you 
at some time I think it best to commit to writing, that they may 
be more distinctly and permanently impressed on your mind. 

I. In regard to your health. The profession you propose 
to follow requires health, and is favorable to health. Now is 
the time to fortify yourself, and acquire that vigor necessary to 
successful and comfortable practice of physic. In order to this 
you must exercise unwearied caution : (1) As to j^our eating, 
never to overfill your stomach, and always select such articles 



48 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

as are most easy of digestion and calculated to regulate the 
bowels. These you must learn by experience and observation ; 
and when anything goes wrong come to me. Avoid stimulants 
of all kinds. (2) Exercise. Athletic exercises are of the great- 
est necessity and importance to you. Now is the time to get 
strength, — now or never. Pursue this with constant and un- 
abated ardor. Riding, walking, such gymnastics as you can 
practise. Frictions morning and night. 

II. Studies. Your situation gives you an admirable oppor- 
tunity for acquiring medical knowledge, if you rightly improve 
it. In acquiring and storing knowledge the most efficient 
means is to write down what you acquire every night. This 
has the double advantage of giving you knowledge and 
strengthening the mental powers. A person who has not had a 
college education must take additional pains to invigorate his 
thinking and reasoning faculties. This is best done by writing. 
Authorship or composition is obtained in this way, and tha 
faculty of writing or composing is indispensable to a medical 
man. (2) In order to obtain mechanical skill you ought daily to 
practise something mechanical, however simple, even sawing or 
cutting sticks with a penknife, and often try your left hand. 

(3) You may get a vast deal of information from me by seeking 
it. My mind is so much occupied that I do not think to tell 
you a thousand things which I have learnt and am willing to 
communicate. These you must seek. If you make a practice 
of coming into my room the later part of the evening, it will be 
useful ; for though I am always occupied and often fatigued, I 
shall be glad to have you come and get out of me what you can. 

(4) Observe everything closely. You are apt to be too quick and 
superficial in your views. This must be overcome by exertion. 

III. Morals. Cultivate a cheerful spirit, and it will give you 
agreeable manners. Young men anxious to get on are apt to 
become sour. But your course is, with reasonable exertions, so 
plain a one that you have only to labor steadily without being 
uneasy as to the result. Avoid a reserved and too silent 
demeanor among your friends and family. (2) In your inter- 
course with young men, be careful to select such as are of good 
character and whose conversation may be profitable to you. 
A man is known by his company. Avoid those who are fond of 
theatres and dissipation. Whenever you wish to go to the 



LETTER FROM DR. JOHN C. WARREN. 49 

theatre always speak to me of it beforehand ; and as you know- 
it has been with me an invariable rule to have my family quiet 
at ten, so never stay out beyond this time without previous 
communication with me, or, if it be a common party, with your 
mother. I do not wish to restrain you from any salutary 
pleasure, but my experience is more than yours and better able 
to guide. 3. Above all, cultivate a high sense of religious feel- 
ing and duty. This is the proper security to morals, and it is 
the greatest and only resource in trouble. Adhere to the Epis- 
copal Church. Fluctuations are dangerous, and unsettle the 
mind. Many more things I could say, but fear to burden you ; 
and so farewell. 

Your affectionate father, 

J. C. Warren. 1 



1 This letter strikingly recalls in style and tone that addressed by Dr. James 
Jackson to his talented son under similar circumstances. No one aware of the cor- 
dial friendship that existed between Dr. Jackson and Dr. John C. Warren — and 
which was so fully and sincerely continued by the former to the subject of this 
memoir — can have failed to observe how profoundly it was based on a mutual de- 
votion to the same high aims, and especially on the same sympathy for every form 
of moral and religious attainment. In spite of many patent differences of manner 
and conduct, the inner lives of these able and excellent men were really modelled 
after one great type. The truth of this is clearly shown in the advice of each to his 
son when about to pursue his studies abroad. 

" There is a risk of life," wrote Dr. Jackson, " and it would indeed alter the as- 
pect of my future days if I did not hope to have you by my side and to leave you 
behind me in this world ; but this is the smallest risk by far. Whether we pass 
a few short years together in this world is comparatively of little consequence; 
whether we meet in a better world is of immeasurable importance. This depends 
on ourselves, on the strict regard to morality which we both maintain; a mo- 
rality, in Dr. Holyoke's sense, which includes piety, — a regard to our Maker as 
well as to ourselves and fellow-men." Again he writes : " In temptation I think 
you will first think of home, and then cast your eyes higher, — to the home we all 
ultimately hope for, and to the Father who is better than any earthly parent." 
Well might his noble son say in reply : " My heart beats and my eyes fill ; my 
hopes are brightened and my resolutions are strengthened, as I advance, in reading 
your kind letter of affection and advice. Be assured I will not neglect the opportu- 
nities which I am about to enjoy. My constant prayer is to God, that he will 
give me strength, moral and mental, to improve them to the utmost.' 



CHAPTER IV. 

EUROPEAN TEAYELS AND STUDIES. — THE CHOLERA. — 
LIFE IN LONDON AND PARIS. 

Having advanced thus far in his professional career, 
Dr. Warren discovered that he had again reached the 
limit of his endurance ; and for the second time his health 
began to give way from hard work and excessive devo- 
tion to his favorite pursuits. He became pale and thin, 
while his strength slowly failed from day to day. He 
also suffered much pain, and depression of spirits as well, 
from dyspepsia, — a disorder which was ultimately to taint 
his whole life. His appetite grew less and less. Under 
these circumstances he was naturally led to reflect on 
the benefits that had accrued from his former voyages, 
and the refreshment that a similar remedy might still 
provide for his exhausted forces. Everything was to be 
expected from a few weeks on the ocean, especially if 
followed by a prolonged foreign tour, which would insure 
many a permanent advantage to both body and mind. 
In addition to this it was now the time, if ever, to 
carry out his own and his father's plans in regard to a 
course of professional study in Europe. The latter had 
laid the foundations of his career by a close attendance 
at the medical schools and hospitals of London and Paris 
for more than three years. The inducements offered to 
a young physician at that period not only yet existed, 
but had largely increased, particularly in Paris, where 
the learning and ability of the professors, and the size 
and appointments of the hospitals over which they pre- 



DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE. 51 

sided surpassed all that could be found elsewhere. Dr. 
Warren had long felt an eager and irresistible desire to 
enjoy these superior attractions ; and with this sentiment 
his father had a natural sympathy, the more so from his 
son's professional ambition and sound principles. An 
excellent opportunity soon appeared for crossing the 
Atlantic under promising auspices; and on Sunday, 
March 25, 1832, Dr. Warren set sail from Boston in 
the ship " Dover," Captain Nye, with a numerous party 
of friends. 1 

As the hour of departure approached, both the ship 
and the pier at which she lay — Long Wharf — presented 
a scene of much animation, all the more striking from 
the usual repose apparent on the Sabbath in that locality. 
Sunday still continued to be observed in Boston with a 
stringent display of the old Puritanic rigor, and public 
opinion was impatient of all levity beyond a certain well- 
defined limit. One might not even smile too broadly 
in the shadowy presence of the austere founders of the 
State on that day. Upon this occasion the ordinary 
bustle caused by the sailing of a large and handsome 
merchantman would have given rise to no little excite- 
ment; but if to this be added the lively chatter and 
hearty adieux of numberless friends and relatives who 
had come to see the last of the voyagers, it will be easy 
to infer that the affair was likely to make an indelible 
impression on all present, the more so from the social 
standing of the participants, which was of the very best 
and magnified it into an event of positive importance. 
On leaving the harbor, Captain Nye shaped his course 
for Charleston, South Carolina, where the greater part of 
his passengers were to land, and where he was to exchange 

1 The list of passengers, as published in the " Advertiser," was as follows : 
"William Appleton, Esq., and servant; Dr. J. M. Warren ; Dr. S. C. Greene ; B. D. 
Greene, Esq., and lady ; Misses Greene and Quincy, and attendant ; Miss Perkins ; 
H. B. Rogers, Esq., and lady ; William E. Payne, Esq. ; and Mr. W. S. Bullard, 
all of this city." 



52 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

his cargo of Yankee and other notions for cotton, and then 
make the best of his way to Liverpool. This route to 
Europe would appear somewhat circuitous in these days of 
rapid transit from one shore of the Atlantic to another ; 
but at that time it was by no means unfrequent, being re- 
quired by the necessities of commerce. Dr. Warren spent 
a fortnight at Charleston, — being seriously ill during a 
portion of the time, — when the " Dover'' was again ready 
to sail, and he parted from all the companions of his voyage 
with one exception, his friend Dr. John S. C. Greene, 
who was also on his way to pursue his professional studies 
in Europe. The detention at Charleston had been very 
agreeable in spite of his illness, and he did not for a 
moment regret the change from the raw east-winds of 
New England to the mild spring breezes of the south, 
nor that from the capricious sea to terra firma. From 
the voyage thus far he had derived no benefit ; on the 
contrary, it had decidedly increased the general pros- 
tration from which he was already suffering when he 
left home. Even his strength of will was powerless in 
presence of continual nausea ; and he could do little or 
nothing to mitigate that weariness and discomfort which 
incessantly weighed him down, in unfortunate contrast 
to his former experience on the water. His natural flow 
of brightness was replaced by a never-yielding ennui ; 
and he who ordinarily would have been overflowing with 
abundant cheerfulness now saw himself reduced to the 
extreme of dulness and indescribable lassitude. 1 For 

1 When Dr. Warren was on the eve of departure for Europe, his father procured 
a small blank book and had it handsomely bound. Mindful of the temptations of 
a foreign sojourn, and of the need which a young man ever feels of guidance when 
away from those to whom he has been wont to look for counsel and protection, he 
inscribed with his own hands in this book many rules of conduct, the dictates of 
his own wide observation, learning, and sound judgment, and gave it to his son to 
take with him. In an appendix to this memoir, these rules are printed in full, that 
the reader may perceive how deep was the love of the parent for his son, and how 
full their mutual confidence ; how tender the solicitude he felt for his lasting 
prosperity ; and the care with which he always brought forward for his benefit 
the crystallized wisdom of his own earnest and prolific life. 



AKRIVAL IN ENGLAND. 53 

this, not even the fair weather and favorable winds that 
accompanied him to the end of his passage from Charles- 
ton afforded a remedy ; and it was not until he landed 
in Liverpool on the 29th of May, that he recovered any 
great degree of strength or even a portion of his former 
elasticity of spirits. 1 

At this point of their journey the travellers became 
conscious of an atmosphere of excitement which was 
strikingly contrasted with the dull tedium of an ocean 
passage. Sea-sickness and dyspepsia combined were mel- 
ancholy enough in their effects, and not a little demoral- 
izing ; but they were mere casual incidents compared with 
the malady in the presence of which Dr. Warren and his 
companion now found themselves. The year 1832 will 
long be remembered as an annus mirabilis for many 
reasons, particularly for the ravages of death. In fact, 
it might well be termed the annus mortis. The decease 
of Sir Walter Scott, Cuvier, Goethe, Napoleon's son, and 
a score of other illustrious men would ever have served 
to fix it deeply in the minds of those who came after 
them ; but the ravages of the Asiatic cholera gave it a 
direful prominence which will never be forgotten. When 
Dr. Warren reached Liverpool, the progress of this plague 
had already become alarming. In that city the cases 
amounted to ten per day, while the tidings of its havoc 
were continually arriving from other parts of Great 
Britain as well as from the Continent, where the epi- 
demic had assumed a more appalling shape than had been 
seen in Christendon for centuries. Almost the first entry 
in Dr. Warren's European Journal records that " the news 

1 Dr. Warren was not so good a sailor as his father, whose tenacious pluck and 
stoicism enabled him to hold his own on the water as he did on land in spite of 
every opposing influence. When crossing the ocean in the " George Washington," 
he wrote to his son as follows : — 

" At sea, June 24, 1837. — For eight days we have had contrary winds, rain, mist, 
gales, and a tremendous sea ; the decks often inundated, and once the cabin windows 
beaten in and the cabin submerged, so that we could do nothing below or above. 
My sea-sickness, however, was slight, and not such as to deprive me of any meal." 



54 - JONATHAN" MASON WARREN. 

from Paris gives dreadful accounts of its attacks in that 
city, one thousand deaths and over per diem, and not 
confined to the lower classes." Nor was this an exag- 
geration. In France alone, from the 15th of March, 
when the first case was identified, to the end of the 
coming September, there were 229,534 sufferers from 
this disease, and 94,666 deaths, of which 12,723 occurred 
in the month of April alone. Paris was fearfully smitten ; 
and during the above period 44,811 of its inhabitants 
were prostrated, 18,402 with fatal results. The pest 
struck its blows with a speedy virulence, distressing to 
witness, and almost verified the remark of a famous phy- 
sician of that day who said, a Elle commence par ou les 
autres finissent, par la mort." In the metropolis it at- 
tacked all classes alike ; and many eminent persons fell 
before it, including Casimir Perier, the Prime Minister 
of Louis Philippe. A universal panic seized upon every 
one from the highest to the lowest. Terrible and san- 
guinary scenes became familiar to all. The dead accumu- 
lated in houses and hospitals, and it was with the greatest 
difficulty that the living could be induced to bury them. 
Dr. Warren's intimate friend, — Dr. James Jackson, Jr., 
then in the French capital, — whose premature decease 
shortly after this time was so greatly deplored, gave 
himself up to the most minute and persistent studies of 
this scourge, and remained several weeks courageously at 
his post in defiance of every danger. In a letter to his 
father dated April 1, he says, — 

"I lament to tell you that the cholera, which was yet a little 
doubtful when I last wrote (three days since), is now reigning 
in Paris, and I must add, to a frightful degree. To this moment 
there are three hundred cases, and a full half already dead." 

Later he observes : — 

"Now, for the disease: in one word, it is death. Truly, 
at H6tel Dieu, where I have seen fifty and more in a ward, it 



JOURNEY TO LONDON. 55 

is almost like walking through an autopsy room ; in many 
nothing but the act of respiration shows that life still exists. 
. . . The physicians are in a state of the greatest incertitude, 
not knowing which way to turn. ... I can only say that the 
disease is in truth almost a conversion instantaneously from 
life to death." 1 

With some natural misgivings, but not suffering him- 
self to be discouraged by the outlook, — it was assuredly 
the wisest course he could have followed, — Dr. Warren 
proceeded to carry out the plans with which he had 
started. These he could pursue, especially so far as his 
profession was concerned, under most favorable condi- 
tions. His father had now a transatlantic reputation, and 
a large correspondence with prominent members of the 
faculty in Europe, and the letters he gave his son would 
insure him every attention; while the latter, with his 
winning manners and studious desire of improvement, 
would be certain to add to the interest that his father 
might have awakened in his behalf. On the day after 
he reached Liverpool, being provided with an introduc- 
tion by Mr. Bickersteth, " the most eminent surgeon of 
the place," he visited the Infirmary and the Lunatic 
Asylum, also the Blind Asylum, all which he examined 
with care and thoroughness. On the afternoon of June 3, 
he left for Chester; the 4th saw him in Birmingham, 
whence, by way of Warwick and Oxford, travelling 
by coach, he reached London on the 8th. He enjoyed 
this journey to all appearance with considerable zest, 



1 It was characteristic of the Parisians that they should take advantage of the 
reigning dismay to add another element of horror and confusion. The funeral of 
General Lamarque — another victim of cholera — on the 5th of June gathered an 
immense crowd of Carlists, Republicans, and Revolutionists of every degree, who 
were quickly inflamed into an insurrection by their leaders. This was not long in 
assuming formidable proportions, as the insurgents strengthened themselves in 
various churches, and behind barricades in the narrow streets, and fought with 
desperation. They were not conquered till nearly three thousand had been killed 
and wounded after two days of hard fighting, whereupon an ordinance was issued 
declaring martial law, and placing the city in a state of siege. 



56 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

though a timid person would have met with many draw- 
backs. The cholera was not so deadly in its effects as 
in France ; yet the victims were very numerous, so much 
so as to give rise to the wildest excitement at Birming- 
ham, Manchester, and other important towns in the in- 
terior, where turbulent mobs were roaming to and fro 
at will, burning and plundering, having been inflamed 
by reports that the wells had been poisoned with the 
design of destroying the lower classes, — reports which 
gained easier credence since the plague in England ap- 
peared to attack only the squalid, the needy, and the 
dissolute, and seldom those in easy circumstances. If to 
this state of affairs be added the fact that the whole land 
was in the midst of the wildest political furor it had 
ever known, the system of rotten boroughs being in its 
last agonies, and the reform bill in the throes of its 
tumultuous birth, 1 one may have some comprehension 
of the prospect that lay outspread before peaceful tourists 
bent on nothing but mutual improvement and profes- 
sional profit. 

On the day after his arrival in London, Dr. Warren 
engaged rooms at No. 125 Regent Street, and began a 
round of activity which lasted till the end of his stay in 
that city. On Sunday, June 10, he attended service at 
St. Paul's, and visited Lord Lyndhurst at Hyde Park Ter- 
race. June 11, he met his friend Jackson, who confirmed 
the reports concerning the cholera at Paris. On the next 
day he presented his letter of introduction to Sir Astley 
Cooper, — " he lives in Conduit Street, not in any style," 
— " who received us very pleasantly, read my letter, and 
immediately entered into conversation with regard to a 
book he had just published. He asked me to breakfast 

1 May 23, 1832, Carlyle writes : " Democracy gets along with accelerated pace, — 
whither ? Old borough-mongers seemingly quite desperate ; meetings, resolutions, 
black flags and white flags (some even mount a petticoat in reference to the 
Queen), threatenings, solemn covenants (to oust Toryism), run their course over 
all the Isles. Wellington is at the stake (in effigy) in all the market towns." 



SIR ASTLEY COOPER. 57 

with him on Thursday." * In the evening Dr. Warren 
went to the King's Theatre to attend the first authentic 
performance in England of " Robert le Diable." It was 
received by an immense audience " with grand acclama- 
tions/ ' As we learn from Dr. Warren's journal that he 
was " obliged to stand the whole evening," and as the 
curtain, which rose at nine, did not fall till twenty minutes 
before two, we may reasonably conclude that he had 
regained a fair share of his lost strength. On Wednesday 
he accompanied Sir Charles Bell on his rounds through 
Middlesex Hospital, and the next day breakfasted with Sir 
Astley, " who is now," he writes to his father, " about 
sixty-five years of age. He has a tall, noble, commanding 
figure, slightly inclined to corpulency, which, however, 
hardly appears, as he wears his clothes tight, with his 
frock-coat buttoned up to the neck. His first expression 
is peculiarly agreeable and good-humored, placing the 
stranger immediately at his ease. He becomes more 
serious as he talks, which he does to the point, always 
bringing forward some subject of interest to his visitor. 
He is certainly a very king in his profession, beloved and 
respected by all his contemporaries. He desired to be 
remembered to you. He has given up most of his prac- 
tice, and now merely attends to consultations at his own 
house. ' How your father would like to see my prepa- 
rations of the thymus gland ! ' he exclaimed. 2 ' I shall 
send him a specimen one of these days/ These, and 
others no less fine, were all made by himself. He works 
on them every morning before breakfast. He says he 

1 The last social invitation accepted by Dr. Warren was from Mr. Gardner 
Brewer to meet Mr. George Peabody at dinner on the 11th of April, 1867. On 
the next day he wrote in his journal, " Mr. Peabody looks very much like Sir 
Astley Cooper." 

2 It is pleasant to know that Dr. Warren's father lived to enjoy and appre- 
ciate to the full this privilege. In 1837, while partaking of the hospitalities of Sir 
Astley in London, he wrote to a friend : " His injections are among the most beau- 
tiful and fortunate that now exist. Those of the thymus gland finely illustrate 
the anatomy of this organ, and go far to establish its physiology." 



58 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

never publishes any theory that he cannot demonstrate. 
He is now investigating one of the simplest parts of the 
human body, which no one has thought of examining 
before. Sir Astley's conversation was most entertaining 
on other subjects, as well as those I have mentioned, and 
was enlivened by anecdotes of Dupuytren, Key, and 
other professional leaders whom he knows intimately." 

On the 19th of the month Dr. Warren saw Miss Frances 
Anne Kemble and her father in the " Hunchback,'' at 
Covent Garden Theatre. The next day he visited his 
sister Susan, then Mrs. Charles Lyman, who with her 
husband and son had just arrived in London from the 
Continent. On the 21st Mr. Key, the great operator, 
took Dr. Warren over Guy's Hospital. " He asked me 
where Boston was, in what State, whether we had a 
medical school, who were the medical men, who was the 
lecturer on anatomy, etc. He said he had heard of Dr. 
Warren." The Fourth of July was celebrated by a dinner 
at Eichmond with his relatives. In the evening he heard 
Brougham speak in the House of Lords, and O'Connell 
in the Commons. July 5, he writes : " Sir Walter Scott 
still remains in town. He is alive, but very low." His 
last day in London was the 9th of July, when he break- 
fasted with Dr. Clarke, afterwards Sir James, " who was 
very polite, and gave me a number of letters to Edin- 
burgh, York, etc." The following morning saw him on 
his route to Cambridge, whence he made his way in four 
days to York. There the cholera was causing great 
alarm. " The assizes have been deferred on account of 
it, and many families have left town. The disease has 
been raging here about six weeks, and out of three hun- 
dred and twenty-four cases there have been one hundred 
and fourteen deaths. The population is about twenty- 
four thousand." July 15, he quitted York for New- 
castle, passing through Darlington, " a very pretty town 
of six thousand inhabitants. It has been very warm on 



IX SCOTLAND. 59 

the reform question, going so far as to stop every person 
who passed through the village and demanding their 
political opinions. The carriage of one of the anti- 
reform dukes was attacked and stoned while passing the 
town, and the Duke himself narrowly escaped being seized 
by the mob." July 17 saw him in Edinburgh, where 
he stayed till the end of the month, receiving many kind 
attentions from Liston, Syme, and other leaders of the 
profession, and carefully visiting the various hospitals and 
infirmaries. Here he met again Dr. Jackson, and took an 
excursion with him to Stirling. On the 1st of August 
the two doctors, having parted from Dr. Greene, who had 
gone on an expedition into the Highlands, quitted Edin- 
burgh for Perth, " one of the most ancient and prettiest 
towns in Scotland. It is said that when Agricola ap- 
proached it with his army in advancing into the country 
of the Caledonians, they were so much struck with its 
resemblance to Rome and the banks of the Tiber, that 
with one consent they cried out, 6 Ecce Tiber! Ecce 
Campus Martius ! ' " The third day of his jaunt they were 
at Inverness, having gone seventy miles by coach, the 
latter part " over the Grampian Hills, through the most 
barren and desolate country in Scotland, nothing to be 
seen but barren hills covered with moss, with here and 
there a flock of black-faced sheep, looking like negro 
women dressed in white gowns. Young Norval was justi- 
fied in his escape from his father." In ten days the 
travellers returned to Edinburgh, having visited much of 
the most impressive scenery of Scotland, under circum- 
stances peculiarly favorable to its enjoyment, — agree- 
able companionship, freedom from care and luggage, good 
weather, and joyous spirits. They rode and drove ; at 
times they walked, with knapsacks. Now and then they 
achieved the respectability of a gig. When this could 
not be compassed they were well pleased to secure a 
cart, in which latter vehicle they reached Fort William, 



60 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

" our horse without bits, driven by a rope tied to his 
nose." In this varied style they saw Loch Lomond and 
many other localities now well known to the world, but 
then of hardly developed fame. On the 9th of August 
they reached Loch Katrine. " As we approached this 
beautiful lake, and came in view of its quiet and placid 
waters, the scene was at once soothing and awful. To 
one not accustomed to the beautiful calmness of an inland 
Like the effect produced upon the mind cannot be con- 
ceived. We hired a boat and sailed down the lake, new 
beauties appearing at every move. As we entered the 
Trossachs and beheld Ellen's tree, so celebrated in Walter 
Scott's ' Lady of the Lake,' the view was the most beau- 
tiful that I have ever seen or conceived." 

On the 14th of the month Dr. Warren again left the 
Scotch capital for a tour across the country, going to 
Lanark, and the falls of the Clyde, stopping at Glasgow, 
where the cholera was raging, — " two hundred cases daily, 
seventy or eighty deaths," * — and finally taking a steam- 
boat for StafFa, over a boisterous sea. On his return he 
again passed through the Trossachs, saw Loch Katrine 
and the Braes of Balquhidder. At Edinburgh, on the 
21st, he found letters from home which announced the 
arrival of the cholera in New York and Philadelphia. 
The mortality was said to be great, with a panic in 

1 In a letter to his brother at this time Carlyle writes, under date of August 
31 : " Cholera is spreading ; is at Carlisle, at Ayr, at Glasgow ; has hardly 
yet been in our county, — at least, only as imported. It is all over Cumberland. 
Four carriers, one of them from Thornhill, breakfasted together at Glasgow, and 
all died on the way home. The Thornhill one did, we know. It has gone back 
to Sunderland and Newcastle. Medical men can do nothing except frighten those 
that are frightable." 

In a note on p. 230, vol. ii., of the Life of Thomas Carlyle, Mr. Froude says, 
speaking of this summer : " The cholera fell very heavily on Dumfries. For 
want of accommodation the sick were crowded together in a single large build- 
ing, out of which few who had entered came forth alive. The town was terror- 
struck. Carlyle told me that the panic at last reached the clergy, who were 
afraid to go within the door of that horrible charnel-house to help the dying in 
their passage into eternity, but preached to them from the outside through the 
open windows." 



ABBOTSFORD. 61 

Boston, and all communication cut off between that 
city and New York. On the 23d Dr. Warren went to 
Abbotsford, taking Melrose on his way. The interior of 
Scott's residence he could not see, as the great novelist 
lay dying within its walls, his last pulsations slowly ceas- 
ing amid the universal sorrow of that land on which his 
genius had dawned like a newly rising sun, gilding with 
its refined gold alike the beauty and grandeur of its 
scenery, the towering forms of its great men, and the 
rugged furrows which even its humblest characters had 
traced in the past. The staghound Brand, however, on 
whom Scott had bestowed the boon of his affection and 
the immortality of his pen, was still to be seen, and gave 
a mute and characteristic welcome. " On taking my 
place in the coach for Edinburgh," writes Dr. Warren, 
" an odd-looking gentleman with a wooden leg descended. 
Him I afterwards found to be the village schoolmaster, 
and by many supposed to be the original of ' Dominie 
Sampson/ having been always a man of the most ec- 
centric manners and mode of expression. He had been 
the teacher for the last twenty years in the village ; and 
Sir Walter took, no doubt, from his odd ways the idea 
of ' the stickit minister.' The gentleman who was my 
coach companion was also acquainted with another of the 
characters in c Guy Mannering,' the original of ' Dandie 
Dinmont,' an honest farmer. Lord Castlereagh a few 
years since sent to him to purchase one of the pups of 
' Pepper and Mustard,' to which the old man sent back 
rather a gruff answer. ' Do you think,' says he, 6 that I am 
a-going to send up my pups to lie upon a carpet in Par- 
liament ? ' " On the 24th Dr. Warren saw Edinburgh for 
the last time, as he left the town on that day with his 
friend Dr. Greene, for London, which he entered again on 
the 5th of September, having visited the lake district in 
the interval, as well as Buxton, Chatsworth, Haddon Hall, 
Stratford-on-Avon, and other noted places, the attractions 



62 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

of which must have been sadly damped by the pouring 
rain, which he informs us fell without cessation during 
the whole journey. Everywhere he was brought face to 
face with the cholera. At Manchester he records seventy- 
six cases per day ; in Liverpool, one hundred and two ; 
" in Bitton, ten miles from Birmingham, of a population 
of twenty thousand, fifteen hundred have died the past 
week." The New York papers spoke of the ravages 
of the pestilence in that city, while in Philadelphia, on 
the 8th of August, there were one hundred and seventy- 
six sufferers and over seventy deaths. 

Dr. Warren's arrival in London completed the first 
portion of his European tour, which from the very 
beginning must have been prolific in piquant and 
startling effects, greatly increased and made doubly 
impressive by their contrast with the rather tame and 
monotonous peacefulness he had left behind him in New 
England. 

The ensuing ten days Dr. Warren spent in London. 
He employed them in a characteristic manner, by visiting 
hospitals and asylums in every direction, arduously seek- 
ing every addition to his professional resources. Nothing 
could exceed the kind civilities of the faculty in his 
behalf. He derived especial pleasure from operations 
for the stone, which he witnessed as done by Mr. Key 
and Mr. Babington. Meeting Mr. Bryant only six weeks 
from Boston, he learned that the latter had passed 
through New York within a month or so. " Cholera 
had produced there a horrid state of things. Shops all 
closed. Broadway deserted. Nothing in the way of 
business going on.'' The day before he left London, 
Dr. Warren called on Sir Astley Cooper, who gave him 
letters to Dupuytren, Roux, Civiale, and other great 
French surgeons. " In order to get on in the world, his 
advice was ' to rise early, to concentrate your powers on 
one object, and not to settle in a country town.' ' Having 



CORRESPONDENCE. 63 

paid a final visit to the Veterinary Hospital, on the 16th 
he took coach for Brighton, whence on the 19th a steamer 
sailed for Dieppe. 

London, Tuesday, June 12, 1832. 

My dear Father, — I arrived in London last Friday even- 
ing, and have, according to Mr. Wiggin's x advice, taken rooms 
in a central part of the city. This morning I called with 
James Jackson on your old friend Sir Astley Cooper. After 
waiting half an hour or more in his drawing-room to take our 
turn among the numerous patients who had come to consult 

1 This name will excite a pleasing ripple in the memories of some who may- 
still live to recall the London of fifty years ago. At that time Timothy Wiggin, 
"American Merchant," was one of the most popular and prosperous of foreign 
bankers. Long a member of the well-known Boston firm of B. & T. Wiggin, his 
sagacity and enterprise had led him in 1798 to seek to extend its business. Set- 
tling first in Manchester, England, where in 1806 he married a Miss Catherine 
Holme, of Stockport, he removed to London in 1825, and became the successor of 
the insolvent American banker, Samuel Williams. He soon acquired wealth and 
reputation. He was a generous host, and cordially welcomed all his friends to 
No. 50 Harley Street, a handsome mansion, where he lived in much state between 
Lord Redesdale and the Duke of Dorset. Unhappily the financial disasters of 1837 
caused his suspension, and in 1842 he finally retired to his country place at Barnes, 
near London, where he died Feb. 1, 1856, leaving ten children. 

In 1810 Timothy Wiggin was joined by his brother Benjamin, and their part- 
nership continued both at home and abroad till 1825. The latter took up his abode 
in London, and there remained till 1815, with the exception of the period from 1821 
to 1826, when he occupied a house on Beacon Street in this city. While in 
London, at No. 33 Upper Harley Street, and later at No. 28 Park Crescent, he enter- 
tained with as much style and comfort as his brother. In this he was most effec- 
tively aided by his wife, once Miss Charlotte Fowle, a woman of remarkable beauty 
and winning demeanor, whom he married Jan. 26, 1804, and who was the eldest of 
the six children of John Fowle, a farmer of Watertown, Mass. They were a hand- 
some family, and the oldest and youngest daughters were famous for their personal 
charms. It was at the residence of Mr. Benjamin Wiggin that Mr. Samuel Welles, 
afterwards the opulent American banker of Paris, first met, wooed, and won Miss 
Adeline Fowle, the youngest sister of Mrs. Wiggin and seventeen years her junior. 
At the time of her marriage in 1816 she had not yet completed her eighteenth year, 
though her beauty of form and feature and her fascination of manner already fore- 
shadowed that striking and brilliant career which she was destined to lead at so 
many European courts as the Marquise de Lavalette. 

After their return to Boston in 1845 Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Wiggin continued 
their wonted hospitality at No. 5 Pemberton Square, which is still well remem- 
bered by many of their guests. Here Mr. Wiggin died May 0, 1849, at the age of 
seventy-seven, without issue, having devised his estate of half a million to his 
widow and to his brother's numerous children. Mrs. Wiggin soon went to Paris, 
where she died April 27, 1853, in her seventy-first year, leaving to her sister Ade- 
line her superb jewelry and the greater part of her handsome fortune. 



64 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

him, we were finally ushered into his presence. He received 
us very cordially, inquired particularly after your health, and 
spoke of your former pupilage with him. From my recollec- 
tions of the engraving you have in Boston, I should think he 
had grown corpulent of late, though the face is exact. He 
showed us a new work he had just published on the Thymus 
Gland, aud explained the different plates in a most satisfactory 
manner. He said that having often perceived a milky sub- 
stance flow from this gland in animals, particularly in the calf, 
he was led to suppose that its office might be in some way 
connected with the foetus in utero, and by numerous injections 
he has detected a communication between the gland and the 
left jugular vein. The theory is very ingenious, and his experi- 
ments very beautiful and effective. The discovery, if it prove 
to be such, will be most valuable. He says he intends to send 
his work to you. I am to breakfast with him on Thursday, and 
if he does not offer me a copy I shall purchase one and forward 
it immediately. James Jackson was so delighted with the 
theory that I believe he proposes to write a notice of it in the 
Medical Journal. He was in Paris during the greatest ravages 
of the cholera, and has prepared a work on the epidemic which 
he has intrusted to his father for publication. 

I called yesterday on Dr. Boott, 1 who gave me tickets for 
the Zoological Gardens. To-morrow I propose to visit John 
Hunter's Museum. I shall probably pass two or three weeks 
here, and then go to Edinburgh, stay a month or six weeks in 
Scotland, and proceed to Paris for the winter. Sir Astley, I 
think, will advise me to remain in London ; but I have been 
led to believe that London offers far greater advantages to one 
who has previously studied in the French capital, — that is, if he 
has improved his time there ; and so I shall undoubtedly begin 
in the latter city, though my plans are not entirely settled. 

1 In his "Annual Address delivered before the Massachusetts Medical Society, 
May 25, 1864," Dr. Mason Warren, alluding to those members who had died 
since the last meeting of the Society, mentions Dr. Boott with deep feeling among 
them, as "a native of Boston, and a graduate of Harvard, for many years a resident 
of London, where he had gained high distinction as well for his professional skill 
as for his eminent scientific attainments, and had endeared himself to thousands 
of his countrymen by his kindly manners and considerate attentions. Although 
resident abroad for nearly fifty years, how many among us feel in his death 
the loss of a personal friend as well as of a most distinguished member of our 
profession ! " 



CHOLERA IN LONDON. 65 

The cholera, though still prevalent here, is hardly spoken of 
as alarming ; in fact, I did not until this afternoon discover that 
there were any cases in the city. The new method of treat- 
ment introduced by Dr. Stevens has of late caused some talk 
here. He says he has injected forty-eight pounds of water 
strongly impregnated with salt into the veins of a cholera patient 
without causing death, — that is, immediate death, — which was 
done in pursuance of a theory that the disease deprives the 
blood of its saline properties. Though this idea may be false, 
and the treatment is in most cases unsuccessful, the experiment 
is curious as showing what great quantities of foreign matter 
may be introduced into the circulation without destroying life. 
There are no new works here on the cholera of any conse- 
quence. Most of those already published are mere general 
statements of its progress in England, in Paris, and in the 
towns lately attacked ; but as some of them may be of interest 
to you, I will send them as soon as I have discovered your 
bookseller, Mr. Hale. 

Two more volumes have appeared of Dr. Bright's splendid 
work on the kidneys. It is very expensive, costing, I believe, 
nearly $100 ; but I will buy it, if you wish, on my return from 
Scotland. 

My health since I left Liverpool is, I think, improving, though 
I still suffer from dyspepsia. By care, however, and attention 
to diet, I hope in a degree to overcome it ; but T find it difficult 
to get into proper order on account of the continual excitement 
and movement to which I am exposed from the time I rise till 
ten or twelve at night. I hope soon to become used to it, and 
no longer deserve the admonitions which Mamma bestows upon 
me in her letters on the ground that I fail to take the necessary 
care of my health. 

I had an opportunity just now of seeing Sir Charles Bell. 
As I passed Middlesex Hospital I heard that he was visiting the 
wards, and went in to attend him. He and Mr. Mayo go 
through the hospital together, that any cases requiring con- 
sultation may be settled on the spot. I was much pleased 
with the appearance of Sir Charles ; he is very unassuming in 
manner, and, I hear, very attentive to strangers. I shall try 
to get an introduction. 

5 



66 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

London, June 27, 1832. 

My dear Father, — I am still occupied in visiting the 
different objects of interest with which London abounds, and 
from all appearances I shall be detained here two or three 
weeks longer. . . . 

The day before yesterday I went to Guy's Hospital when 
Mr. Key was going through the wards. I handed him a letter 
of introduction, or passport, which Sir Astley had given me to 
all the hospitals, and he was very polite. He described the 
cases to me as he passed on, and made many inquiries in regard 
to our hospitals at home. I was much surprised to observe 
his ignorance of the geography of our country. He asked 
me where Boston was and in what State, saying that he had 
heard of it, but never knew exactly its situation. He pointed 
out a case in which he said staphyloraphy might be performed 
with advantage ; in fact, he had performed it only last week 
on an adult subject and with success. Instead of a common 
ligature he used a new instrument invented by a gentleman 
from Berlin. The soft palate is made a raw surface with a small 
knife in the ordinary way, and then, by means of a forceps 
lately designed, two small steel wires are inserted on each side 
and twisted. This method Mr. Key thinks preferable to the 
old one. Before leaving town, I mean, if possible, to get a 
look at the instrument, and also to see Mr. Key operate. He 
asked me if I had ever seen the operation, and I told him once, 
on a child of fourteen. He considered the patient too young. 

After quitting the hospital, I examined the museum attached 
to it, which is increasing very rapidly. A man is kept con- 
stantly employed in making wax preparations to illustrate the 
different diseases that are treated in the hospital. These are 
so well done that it is hard to convince one's self that some of 
them are not parts of the patients themselves. 

The cholera is still in London, also in Liverpool, and in truth 
all over the kingdom. I hear very little of it, and it is im- 
possible to obtain any satisfactory information in regard to it. 
It prevails principally among the lowest classes, and is treated 
on no fixed principles. The saline method is most in vogue, — a 
bubble that will soon burst, as most of the patients are sure to die 
according to this or any other process. The particulars of this 
plan you will best learn from the "Lancet " and the " Gazette." 



EDINBURGH. 67 

Edinburgh, July 26, 1832. 
My dear Father, — I have been passing a very agreeable 
week in this city, and through the kindness of Dr. Clarke, who 
gave me letters to prominent medical men, have obtained admis- 
sion to the hospitals and other places of interest. The principal 
surgeons here are Mr. Liston, at the Infirmar}^ and Mr. Syme, 
who has a hospital and practises by himself. The latter has 
greatly distinguished himself of late by his operations for the 
excision of diseased joints. I have purchased his works, and 
shall send them home from London. I was at his hospital this 
week, and saw him perform some small operations, afterwards 
going to a private one. He showed me his museum, and asked 
me to his house in the evening. We conversed on the subject 
of air entering the veins during an operation. He mentioned a 
case that occurred here lately, where death undoubtedly ensued 
from this cause, though it was not generally admitted, and the 
facts were not sufficiently clear to be stated at length. He was 
much interested in my account of the Boston cases, and asked 
me to prepare him a statement of them in writing. I thought 
it better to inform you first, that I might get the exact facts. 
Be kind enough to forward them to me in Paris, if you are will- 
ing to have them published, as Mr. Syme wishes to refer to them 
in his lectures. He uses the actual cautery as a counter-irritant 
in white-swelling of the knee and ankle joints, and very suc- 
cessfully. He passes the iron over the surface, and the wound 
requires no dressing to keep it open. 

I went round the Infirmary with Mr. Liston, a short time 
since, and saw a few of his patients. He showed me a case of 
operation for a new nose which has turned out remarkably well. 
He showed me his museum, which is very valuable, and asked 
me to his operations. 

My plans for the future are not yet entirely matured. James 
Jackson and I leave here on Saturday, for a short tour in the 
Highlands, to last ten days. My 'friend Greene is to start at 
the same time with Dr. Graham, on a botanical expedition. 
Jackson afterwards goes to Dublin ; Greene and myself to Glas- 
gow, on our way to London. We shall probably be in Paris by 
the middle of September. The cholera still rages throughout 
the kingdom ; over one hundred deaths per day in London, 
and ninety in Liverpool. Here it has been severe, but is now 



68 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

diminishing. No treatment as yet has succeeded, and injection is 
losing ground, as all thus managed die. Dr. Scott, who has the 
care of one of the cholera hospitals here, tells me that he tried 
the saline process with nineteen, and they all died. I have col- 
lected a few pamphlets on the subject, though not of much 
value. I sent you from London Stevens's work. I hope you 
received it ; if not, Gray and Bowen have it. There are no new 
surgical instruments of importance. I have seen a little forceps 
for twisting arteries instead of employing the ligature, — not of 
much use. I shall send it home as a curiosity. During my 
stay in Europe I should like to procure whatever books you 
may want. By this means I shall be able to know what is 
going on myself, and shall not run the risk of procuring works 
which you have received from other sources. 

I should like to have you send out a few copies of your 
different productions, especially your work on diseases of the 
heart, which is very highly spoken of here. I have been asked 
once or twice if I am related to the Dr. Warren who wrote 
on the heart. Also please let me have your compilation on 
cholera. 

As the cholera is now raging in Paris and in most of the large 
cities, and as, if it continues, nothing can go on in the profes- 
sional line during the winter, pray write to me what is to be done. 
I suppose I could not derive any particular profit from going to 
Germany, as I know nothing of the language. 

From the beginning of my visit here in Edinburgh, I have 
spent an hour or two daily at the College of Surgeons, where a 
fine collection of human and comparative anatomy has just been 
arranged in a building erected for the purpose. In morbid 
anatomy this is one of the most complete in Great Britain. 

Since you were in Edinburgh the place has undergone a most 
wonderful change. The new town has been almost entirely 
built within the last thirty years. Monuments and public 
buildings have been reared' on Calton Hill, while a row of 
houses surrounds its base. From all accounts of its former 
appearance I should think you would hardly recognize it. It 
is by far the most beautiful city I have yet seen. The people 
are stanch reformers, and have made a great noise about the 
late bill. Their celebration of its passage is said to have been 
the most splendid display ever witnessed here. I arrived in 



SIR ASTLEY COOPER. 69 

town only in time to see the fireworks at the end of the day. 
The Duke of Wellington is about to pay them a visit here, I 
fear to his personal injury, as the citizens detest him thoroughly, 
the fact being that he has made himself unpopular everywhere 
in the country by his absurd speeches during the discussion of 
the Reform Bill. You have doubtless noticed in the papers 
how he was treated in London. 1 I saw him just afterwards at 
a review of ten thousand troops in Hyde Park. He is a fine- 
looking man, and his profile much resembles that of Mr. Theodore 
Lyman. He rode through a crowd of twenty or thirty thousand 
people, who were shouting and almost pulling him from his 
horse, while he showed the utmost possible composure. 

London, Sept. 13, 1832. 

My dear Father, — I received by the last packet your 
letter of August 6, giving an account of the commencement of 
the cholera at our State prison. I had been reading about this 
in a Boston paper the same morning, and was surprised at some 
of the ridiculous remarks made upon it, — that the disease was 
in none of its symptoms like the cholera, etc. I am afraid they 
will soon discover their mistake. 

I have been spending the last week in preparations for leaving 
London. On my return here I called on Sir Astley Cooper, and 
found him, as usual, full of business. He spends all his spare 
time in his museum, making preparations with which, from what 
I can learn, he intends at some future day to surprise the world. 
James Jackson and I made a bold push to see his collection, and 
gave him some pretty broad hints ; but he soon saw what we were 
driving at. Looking up from under his eyebrows, he gave one 
of his peculiar chuckles, and said that he showed his collection 
to no one as yet. He has sent many of these specimens of his 
skill to the museum at Guy's Hospital. Some of them are very 
fine, though he styles them " only the weeds." 

Sir Astley inquired if there was anything I wished to see 
here, and at my request gave me a letter to Baron Heurteloup, 
who has just invented an instrument for breaking the stone ; 
also to Mr. Tyrrel, the famous operator on the eye. I called on 

1 "The poor old king has been hit (by a solitary blackguard) with a stone. 
Wellington was peppered with mud and dead cats along the whole length of 
London." — Letter from Carlyle, June 29, 1832. 



70 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

the Baron, but he had gone to Paris to submit his invention to 
the French Institute. Weiss has imitated the " stone hammer," 
as Sir Astley calls it. It consists of a long staff, with two 
jaws at the end, one movable ; and, the stone being seized be- 
tween them, the staff is struck at the top with a hammer, and the 
stone is thus broken into several pieces. It is the most plausible 
thing of the kind I have yet seen. Sir Astley says he has seen 
Heurteloup use it successfully several times. If you would like 
to have one, I will send it. I should have done this already, but 
the instrument is expensive, and Weiss's copy, which is the only 
one for sale, is not acknowledged by the inventor. I shall see 
Heurteloup in Paris. 

I send you Mr. Key's straight staff and knife for lithotomy. 
I met Mr. Key at Guy's yesterday, and asked his opinion of the 
new operation, lithotrity. He thought well of it, but said he 
had treated seventy patients by the old method and lost only 
seven, so could not see the need of any change for the present. 
He is one of the most gentlemanly surgeons I have yet met here, 
which is saying a great deal. I send } t ou the new forceps for 
twisting divided arteries and for obviating the use of the liga- 
ture. If not available to you in this way, it may be so for other 
purposes. With it I forward a small trochar for evacuating 
tumors. There is a new knife here for performing the flap 
operation in amputations, something like the catlin, but longer, 
about ten inches. It cuts the whole length on one side, and 
one third on the other. I should have sent this, but have an 
idea that you own it. 

With the rest I send you five casts of skulls, — four from South 
America, the remaining one a cast of Blumenbach's celebrated 
specimen of the Caucasian head. They w r ere all done by a 
most extraordinary man here, Deville, who keeps a lamp-store. 
Having in early life a great taste for phrenology, he cultivated it 
with zeal, and has now accumulated a collection of several thou- 
sand skulls and casts from the heads of all the eminent men who 
have lived for a century past. This has cost him over £ 20,000, 
and he is still adding to it. I went to his house with James 
Jackson, who wished to have his head examined and his char- 
acter told. After conversing for an hour or more, Deville 
proceeded to do this. He made some pretty good hits, but not 
more, I think, than could have been gathered from Jackson's 



CKANIA AND COLLECTIONS. 71 

remarks and physiognomy. He told us some wonderful stories ; 
but I do not think much more of the science than I did before, 
though I shall be apt to inquire into it more closely. The four 
Peruvian heads from Titicaca among the Andes were brought to 
England by Mr. Pentland of the Geological Society. Nothing 
is known of the people. They have left no traditions, nor any 
works of art behind them. Deville shows them as illustrations 
of the near approach of man to the brute creation when the 
intellectual powers are not cultivated. I was anxious to get a 
cast of the Greek head, having seen two most splendid speci- 
mens of ancient Greek skulls in the collection of the Phreno- 
logical Society at Edinburgh, the most perfectly developed heads 
I have yet seen. Deville, however, has none that are remark- 
able. If you would like casts of any kind of head, of any nation, 
or of any particular person, by writing to me or to Deville you 
can secure them. In case you apply to him, he will send them 
to Mr. Wiggin, who can pay for them and have them forwarded. 
I shall get the skull you desired, when I arrive in Paris. 

The minerals in the box are examples of all found in the 
vicinity of the English lakes. The plants and engravings I 
should like to have Mamma preserve, as they are from places 
I have visited on my travels. I have sent you some English 
newspapers gathered in the different cities at the time I was in 
them. They contain accounts of the cholera, etc. The large 
forceps were made to order in Edinburgh. They are for open- 
ing the spinal column, and have been much used for exam- 
ining the spinal marrow in cases of cholera. They are Liston's 
invention. 

I was this morning at St. George's Hospital, Hyde Park 
Corner, and saw an operation for the stone performed by 
Mr. Babington on a boy of nineteen. It was not done with 
so much facility as I have seen you display. During the 
last two or three days I have been occupied in visiting the 
Museum at Guy's Hospital, and the various charitable institu- 
tions which I omitted when here before, such as Bedlam, or 
Bethlehem Hospital, the Asylum for the Blind, and the Philan- 
thropic Society. The last and most interesting was the Deaf 
and Dumb Asylum, where the inmates are taught not only to 
read and write, but to speak. One young man conversed with 
us for half an hour with all the ease of a person that had every 



72 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

sense. He understood our words entirely from the motion of 
the lips ; and he regulates his voice, he says, from the vibrations 
of the chest. The performance was wonderful ; how great the 
utility I cannot say. 

You desire me to remember you to Dr. Roots. I have not 
yet had the pleasure of seeing him. He lives at some distance 
from London, and my time has been so entirely occupied that I 
have been unable to go to him. I thought, also, that it would 
be of more advantage to me to form his acquaintance when I 
was settled here for the winter, than to pay him such a flying 
visit as I should now be obliged to. I leave London for Brigh- 
ton on Saturday, and go to France by way of Dieppe. Dr. 
Hodgkin has offered me letters to Foville, of Rouen, but I shall 
be unable to make much of him, as I cannot speak French ; and 
until I do, I shall keep clear of all French physicians to whom 
I have introductions. 



CHAPTER V. 

PARIS AND THE QUAKTIER LATIN. — THE STUDENTS AND 
THEIR PROFESSORS. 

Having remained at Dieppe only long enough to secure 
places for himself and Dr. Greene on the diligence to 
Rouen, Dr. Warren reached this town on the following 
day. Thence, travelling post, he arrived in Paris on the 
evening of the 22d of September, and stopped at the 
Hotel de Hollande in the Rue de la Paix. On the 25th 
of the same month he removed to the Hotel de l'Odeon, 
No. 6 Place de l'Odeon, where he continued to reside 
till the ensuing August. This was situated in the heart 
of the Quartier Latin, the focus of medical and other 
learned pursuits ; and here he quickly began his studies 
with habitual zeal and industry. In his journal he 
wrote : — 

" September 25. — Took rooms at the Hotel de l'Odeon, Place 
de l'Odeon, at forty-five francs per month. Made arrangements 
at the same time to take my meals at the pension of Madame 
Morel, No. 4 Place de l'Ecole de Medecine, at one hundred 
francs a month. We breakfast at half-past ten and dine at 
half-past five. . . . 

'''•October 6. — We have an odd variety of characters at our 
table. Among them is a certain Monsieur Loyau, a little fini- 
cal bewigged Frenchman with a white cravat, whom one would 
inevitably at first sight take to be an abbe*. He calls him- 
self an aristocrat, and never fails to respond at once to any 
attack upon his order. Generally he overflows with good 
humor ; but he really has a hot and peppery temper, and as he 
cannot bear to be worsted in a discussion he often displaj^s 



74 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

this quality in defence of his hobby. Then there is a young 
Monsieur Fritz, thoroughly republican in his sympathies and 
evidently of good talents. He is quick-witted, and well able 
to hold his own in any debate whatever. He strikes me as a 
man of scholarship and intelligence ; and between the abbe and 
him we are kept in lively motion, and saved from all possible 
chance of dulness. The two make my study of French much 
more agreeable than it would otherwise be, — an advantage 
which is shared also by a young fellow from New Orleans, 
and Mr. Harris, a naval officer, who take their meals at our 
table and have the same designs upon the language as myself. 
The family consists of Monsieur and Madame Morel, their 
two daughters, and Madame's unmarried sister. One of the 
daughters exactly resembles my good little sister Emily, and 
she also bears the name of Emilie." 

At the time of Dr. Warren's first acquaintance with 
the French capital it was, as it has ever been, unique 
among cities ; but it was far more original and striking, 
more picturesque, than now, when imperial luxury and 
a magnificent ambition of change have toned down its 
ancient wrinkles and angularities, or smothered them 
in a sea of glittering tinsel and monotonous splendor. 
Haussmann and his devastating navvies were then in 
the dim and tumultuous future ; and so were those bou- 
levards of his which have let in the coarseness of garish 
light into every mysterious nook, and swept away so 
many coignes of vantage that once delighted the artistic 
eye. The new life that now dawned upon Dr. Warren 
was like a kaleidoscope compared with the dull sur- 
roundings of his native town and the uneventful days 
he had been wont to spend there ; and though the 
crookedness of the narrow streets about him recalled 
in a measure the bewildering lanes with which he had 
been familiar, the resemblance went no further. Under 
every aspect Paris stood out in vivid contrast with Boston, 
whose Puritanical leaven and well-worn categorical ruts 
seemed the bequest of a remote antiquity, compared 



PARISIAN LIFE. 75 

with the novel delights of a society where each moment 
glittered as it disappeared, leaving the fervid glow of an 
electric shock. To this unwonted experience he soon 
adapted himself with easy and genial bonhommie. All 
his associations were exciting, and crowded with droll 
suggestions as well, and ideas heretofore unknown to 
his impressionable sympathies. He found an ever-fresh 
spring of delight in the bizarre manners and whimsical 
customs of the Parisians ; in their petty domestic econo- 
mies narrowed by the practice of ages to the finest point 
that human nature could endure and live; in their 
supreme vanity and self-satisfaction ; in their speaking 
gestures that meant everything, and their dramatic lan- 
guage that meant nothing ; in their politeness unequalled 
except by their wit and their selfishness ; in their wor- 
ship of I 'honneur and la gloire ; in their outer cleanliness 
and their inner lack thereof ; in their food transmuted 
into every form of succulent enticement under every allur- 
ing name ; in the marvellous taste and effulgence of the 
toilette, as revealed by the apparel of either sex; — in 
all these and innumerable other peculiar features, Dr. 
Warren was conscious of an enjoyment that was hourly 
taking on new forms. He seemed to float upon the 
broad current of an element theretofore unknown. All 
was evanescent, nothing substantial. He had come from a 
land where life was a verity that nothing could conceal, 
a hard stratum of reality here and there cropping out into 
a picturesque eminence of fact, to dwell where life was 
more or less a thin tissue of fancy ; where birth was a jest, 
marriage a convenience, and death the last scene in a 
melodrama ; where everything was done for present effect, 
and when done faded away into the limbo of vanity and 
delusion. 

Of all the localities in that vast and eccentric metropo- 
lis Dr. Warren could not have selected one better fitted 
to impress the mind of a foreigner with a sense of his 



76 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

own strangeness than the Quartier Latin. It was a 
centre of human oddities and unbridled indulgence of 
every taste and whim; a motley gathering of every 
human vagary, stimulated by the contagion of kindred 
spirits, leavened with wit, and often driven, by the mere 
freedom from control, to display a supreme contempt for 
morals, for manners, and for every ordinance, human or 
divine. Of its peculiar aspects as revealed to the eye, 
a vivid description was given by Dr. Gibson, of Phila- 
delphia, a distinguished member of Dr. Warren's pro- 
fession, who at a somewhat later date pursued his studies 
in the Latin Quarter. It is here quoted as a truthful 
account of the young doctor's surroundings at the be- 
ginning of his Parisian experiences: — 

" My first visit upon reaching Paris Avas to that quarter of the 
town called the Pays-Latin, in which the greater number of the 
hospitals, the Ecole de Medecine and its Museum, the Clinical 
Hospital of the School of Medicine, the Museum of Dupuy- 
tren, are situated, where all the medical students and many of 
the professors, private lecturers, demonstrators, medical-book 
sellers, instrument makers, medical artistes, anatomical work- 
ers in wax and papier-mache, preparers of natural and arti- 
ficial skeletons, and other varieties of surgical and anatomical 
specimens reside ; where the streets are so narrow and filthy, 
and without pavements or sidewalks, as to endanger life at 
every corner ; where the houses are so high, old-fashioned, 
and gloomy as to resemble jails or penitentiaries, and nearly 
shut out the light of heaven ; where the catacombs, those vast 
depositories of human bones, the accumulated collection of ages, 
lie beneath the feet, extend to unknown distances, and seem to 
respond by hollow groans to the tread of the foot-passenger, 
and rumble beneath the jar of cumbrous vehicles and the tramp 
of clumsy animals that are incessantly threading the narrow 
denies above their desolate but populous domains ; where in- 
numerable smells of concentrated vigor and activity and varied 
odor assail the olfactories from every quarter ; where loud and 
discordant cries of wandering tribes of vagabonds, vending 
their peculiar animal and vegetable productions, fall upon the 



THE LATIN QUARTER. 77 

sensitive and startled tympanum of the stranger like strokes of 
the sledge-hammer or harsh gratings of the saw-pit ; where the 
barking of dogs, the screams of parrots, and the chattering of 
monkeys are mixed with the gabble of old women and men ; 
where the bowing and nodding and scraping and salutations 
and recognitions of street-passengers, bobbing against and 
shouldering each other, followed by the incessant and ever- 
lasting apology, ' Pardon, Monsieur,' and in return by the 
complacent shrug and grin of the sufferer, and the exclamation 
' Pas du tout,' afford the most amusing and melancholy mix- 
ture of pleasurable and disagreeable sensations that can possibly 
be conceived, and have afforded, no doubt, many a scene for the 
dramatist and the painter." 

Once fairly settled, Dr. Warren was not long in de- 
voting himself to the work that lay before him. His 
first object was necessarily to acquire a knowledge of 
the French language, as his acquaintance therewith was 
slight, and until this defect was made good he could not 
derive much benefit from the various lectures that he 
proposed to attend. His efforts in this direction were 
vigorous and persistent; and he was much gratified at 
the rapidity of his progress, which was greater than could 
have been expected, as his linguistic talents were not 
remarkable. At the hospitals, however, he was not de- 
barred from beginning his studies at once, no knowledge 
of the language being necessary in order profitably to 
watch the operations. Under date of September 29, he 
writes as follows: — 

My dear Father, — I wrote you from Brighton an account 
of my last transactions in the British world. Since then I have 
transferred myself to Paris, and have just commenced my course 
of studies. The language I find more difficult than I had ex- 
pected. As to the common questions concerning the necessaries 
of life, it is easy to make myself understood ; but when it comes 
to conversation I am entirely lost. I have, however, taken 
every means to acquire the language as soon as possible. In- 
stead of getting our meals at a cafe, Greene and myself have 



78 JONATHAN MASON WAEREN. 

entered a pension where there are ten or twelve boarders at 
table. We have, also, a French master, a very intelligent man, 
who attends us at our rooms daily. He does not speak English ; 
but we have no difficulty in understanding him, especially as 
he pronounces his words slowly and distinctly. 

My room is at the H6tel de l'Odeon, near the School of 
Medicine. It is small, but convenient and well furnished, and 
costs me forty-five francs per month. I went yesterday to 
H6tel Dieu, and attended Dupuytren in his visit ; he had about 
forty students with him, and performed the operation for cata- 
ract on two patients who were lying in their beds ; it was done 
by the light of a candle, all the students crowding and jostling 
in every direction to see him, and with as much sang f void as if 
he were only bleeding the men. Day before yesterday I was at 
La Pitie, and followed Louis on his rounds, afterwards going to 
a post-mortem. He is very gentlemanly, and much loved by his 
pupils. I think I shall purchase his work on Phthisis. At La 
Pitie' I saw also Velpeau, who has lately published a work on 
Operative Surgery, which I have purchased. To-morrow I go 
to Civiale's hospital, the Necker. 

A fortnight later we read : — 

" I have been principally occupied for the last few weeks in 
learning the language and visiting the different hospitals. As 
yet I have not begun to follow any of them regularly, nor have 
I delivered any of my French letters. I was this morning at 
La Charite, and saw old Boyer extirpate a tumor from the face 
of a woman. He was followed by Roux, who performed a 
bloody operation for cancer of the face, which commencing at 
the jaw extended forwards to the lip and backwards nearly to 
the ear. The gap was very neatly obliterated by the approxi- 
mation of the lips of the wound by the harelip suture. Roux 
is one of the most promising surgeons here at present. He 
performs many uncommon operations, and was, I believe, the 
first who performed that of staphyloraphy. ... I am now 
attending a course of lectures on reptiles by Dume'ril, at the 
Garden of Plants, as much for the purpose of learning the 
language as for the importance of the subject. The Medical 
courses begin in November, and little is doing as yet. Next 
week, Bowditch and myself intend to begin a course on 



COUftSE OF STUDIES. 79 

diseases of the skin, at the great Hospital of St. Louis. We 
go there ; and the gentleman whom we engage calls on a 
number of patients whom we examine, while he explains the 
symptoms." 

By the ensuing January, Dr. Warren had got thor- 
oughly and systematically under way. He writes : — 

" My course of studies has been finally arranged as fol- 
lows : I commonly rise a little after six, the servant com- 
ing in to wake me and light my candle. From six until 
eight I attend Chomel at Hotel Dieu, who is very celebrated 
for his knowledge of diseases of the lungs. At eight, Dupuy- 
tren begins his visit, which lasts an hour ; and he afterwards 
lectures, with operations and consultations, which occupy the 
time till eleven. Then I breakfast, and attend Richerand on 
Surgery from twelve to one. From three to four I go to 
either Marjolin on Surgical Pathology, or Andral on Medical 
Pathology, they lecturing on alternate days. The evenings 
are occupied with reading and other pursuits. The lectures 
at the Sorbonne and at the College of France have just com- 
menced ; but I am not able to attend them, as I should be 
obliged to neglect those at the School of Medicine. This I 
regret much, as I wish to hear some of them, particularly those 
on Philosophy. The lecturers on this subject are of first-rate 
talent. Cousin has lately been made a peer of France, and 
does not lecture ; his colleague takes his place. One of the 
most eloquent men is Jouffroy, on Modern Philosophy ; I heard 
part of his introductory. He reviewed his last two years' 
lectures, which were on the objects of this life, etc. Some 
of his remarks were most bold and striking. He finished by 
saying, 'In my next lecture I shall commence with the future 
state of existence, -— not what it is, but what it ought to be.' 
The great materialist here at present is Broussais. In my next 
I will endeavor to give some account of the state of religion in 
France. It is at its lowest ebb. If there be any change, it 
must be for the better. During the times of Charles X. hypoc- 
risy in religious matters was carried to the greatest extent 
on account of the bigotry of the king. Now, under Louis 
Philippe, who cares nothing for religion, the mask is thrown 
off, and there is the opposite extreme. 



80 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

44 The advantages at present in Paris are so great and so 
numerous, and the time left to a young man to accomplish 
what he wishes is so short, that without great precaution his 
intentions are entirely defeated by attempting too many affairs 
at once ; and this I have to fear myself, as many most important 
branches must be relinquished for want of time." 

When Dr. Warren began his studies in Paris, over 
eight thousand students were frequenting the various 
schools and colleges in the Latin Quarter. The great 
majority, as might have been supposed, were French, 
though England and Germany were well represented, 
and there was a little transatlantic colony of Americans, 
numbering about thirty. More than one half of the 
whole body were professedly following medicine or sur- 
gery, while the remainder gave their time to law or 
theology. In regard to their conduct and personal ap- 
pearance, the French students as a class had undergone 
little if any improvement since Dr. John C. Warren's 
youth, who described them as " a rude and vulgar set of 
people, green from the French Revolution." Generally 
speaking, they were a turbulent and ill-conditioned crowd 
who had taken refuge in the Pays-Latin, as was wittily 
said by one of their countrymen, " pour se soustraire 
aux pernicieuses influences de la civilisation." Rakish, 
loudly dressed, and by no means clean or neat, they 
were for the most part too idle and too independent to 
study, while their lack of every noble quality was supple- 
mented by coarse licentiousness, a plentiful display of bad 
manners, and heads well crammed with sedition. The air 
was reeking with their political outcries, indecent jokes, 
and the songs of Beranger. Religion with them was 
but a vague tradition, morality merely a name, and the 
scanty few who possessed the spirit and pretensions of a 
gentleman might well be thankful that even this safe- 
guard from utter degradation remained to them. Far 
from their homes, and from every domestic or other 



MEDICAL STUDENTS. 81 

favorable influence, hidden among the multitudes of a 
great capital, and free from any check of public opinion, 
they were tempted to the indulgence of every passion 
and every vice, — an indulgence the more irresistible in 
its power and the more disastrous in its effects from 
the fact that they were in the heyday and full fever of 
young blood. Of their peculiar locality they had made 
a sort of Bohemian Babel, impregnated with radicalism 
in the rough, and ever seething with some new excite- 
ment, — a menagerie of humanity, never tame, and always 
on the verge of a wild outbreak. It was the favorite 
resort of irregular natures ; the chosen home of rampant 
eccentricity, despising law and order, and full of lavish ex- 
travagance of word and deed ; an Alsatia of enfants trouves 
and of femmes per dues, where sensuality ran riot and left 
few unscathed. 1 

Being exposed to such almost inevitable hindrances 
at the very threshold, those who really sought to carry 
out the plans for which they had presumably come to 
Paris were few in number, and certainly deserved a good 
share of credit. The advantages they enjoyed were 
obvious and incontestable, and in this respect Paris was 
unequalled by any other city. Nowhere else could be 
found instructors of such signal ability, such valuable 
private courses managed by eminent practitioners, such 
facility of dissection, or hospitals so amply provided with 
patients. There were, in the government institutions 
alone, twenty-three professors, with numbers of hon- 
orary professors and assistants. The leading professors 
were men of admitted talents and great experience, 



1 In Dr. Warren's journal one reads : '* Dec. 29, 1833. — Had my umbrella 
stolen at the Ecole de Medecine by some of its worthy members." At a later date 
this weakness appears to have been still prevalent ; for Dr. John C. Warren, in 
the journal kept in 1837, during his visit to Paris records : u November 24. — At eight, 
in company with Drs. Outram and Spencer, visited the Hotel Dieu with Roux. 
Saw an interesting case of ophthalmia. He told me not to leave my cloak in the 
room or ward, with some amusing remarks on the danger." 

6 



82 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

burning beacons of skill and learning ; but, unhappily, 
subject to defects in many instances that seriously 
impaired their reputations, and rendered them the last 
examples which any young physician, especially on this 
side of the Atlantic, ought to have chosen for his own 
guidance. Having fought their respective ways to the 
chairs they occupied through the most desperate and un- 
scrupulous enmity and opposition, — an opposition that dis- 
dained no weapon, however contemptible, — they mostly 
felt themselves justified in retorting upon their less suc- 
cessful rivals by every means in their power. Hence 
ensued many performances that were disgraceful not 
only to themselves but to the profession. Their lectures 
were not limited to medical and surgical subjects, but 
might be said to have an indefinite range in every direc- 
tion. They were pungent, witty, bitter, sarcastic, spar- 
ing no one, and often imbued with a sparkling infusion 
of radical political ideas, scepticism, and infidelity. Their 
chief feature, however, may be said to have been the 
abuse of their opponents with which they overflowed. 
Nothing could surpass the personal censure and slan- 
derous epithets which these famous surgeons bandied to 
and fro, winged by vanity and inflamed by spite. Their 
malignity 1 was equalled only by their bitterness, and 
their pens were sharper than drawn swords. Their wits 
were more pungent than their lancets, and their tongues 
more cutting than their scalpels. The poignant thrusts 
they exchanged —pares amfaites chirurgicales — filled 
the profession with a frantic joy, while the crowd of 
spectators fired the ambition and whetted the activity 
of each contestant. As he performed some marvel of 
dexterity, and then availed himself of the occasion to 

1 The French physicians generally were by no means behindhand in this matter. 
Dr. John C. Warren wrote from Paris in 1837 : " The jealousy and hatred between 
the medical men in Paris are excessive. It is dangerous to speak of one in presence 
of another." 



SURGICAL AMENITIES. 83 

scourge and goad his confreres^ the students listened in 
delight, and manifested their approval by loud applause. 
From the expressions used one might have supposed it 
the principal aim of each professor's life to persecute his 
competitors to the death, and then to dissect their bodies. 
Said an observer : " Broussais whips all the world, and all 
the world Broussais." Said another : " A lecture by Lis- 
franc is a flourish of bludgeons and daggers; he lashes 
Velpeau and Roux, and even stabs Dupuytren in his 
winding-sheet, but he has as many lashes in return." In 
one of his lectures Lisfranc called Dupuytren " le brigand " 
and u l'infame du bord de l'eau," with other epithets quite 
as abusive ; while the latter replied by pouring forth a tor- 
rent of stinging vituperation, saying, among other things, 
" que sous une enveloppe de sanglier on portait parfois 
un coeur de chien couchant." One was reminded of a 
band of gladiators fiercely contending, Paris serving as 
their arena, and the whole globe as their amphitheatre. 
The prominence of their position and that sotte vanite, 
which has always been so characteristic of their nation, 
stimulated them to ever fresh efforts, for the display of 
which the metropolis, that grand focus upon which the 
whole light of Europe was then brought to bear, offered 
a splendid stage. Each blew his own trumpet so loudly 
that the whole continent resounded with its sonorous 
tones. Their inordinate eagerness to dazzle and capti- 
vate by nimble tours de main and theatrical eclat, and 
thus to impress mankind with a sense of their superiority, 
was indescribable. From this resulted a frightful loss of 
life, as the patient was often sacrificed to the splendor 
of the operation. In view of the actual facts, one must 
regard as mildness itself the comment of an eminent Eng- 
lish surgeon that " a little more regard for the dictates 
of humanity and a little less desire for applause would 
have been better for mankind." They cut up their vic- 
tims as they cut up each other, coldly, cruelly, recklessly ; 



84 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

and death brought a welcome repose to those whom they 
sacrificed. Writing from Paris, Dr. Warren observed: — 

" More than two thirds of their patients die after amputation. 
This I attribute entirely to their mode of dressing, which in 
most instances consists in stuffing the wound with lint, and 
preventing it from healing by the first intention. When this 
is not done, the number of ligatures produces the same effect ; 
and many die after leaving the hospital, worn out by the length 
of the cure. It seems to be rather an object to study the nat- 
ural history of disease, and to perform an operation beautifully, 
than to save the life of the patient." 

Soon after his arrival in Paris Dr. Warren thus referred 
to Dupuytren, the chief surgeon of the Hotel Dieu : — 

" His operations are always brilliant, and his diagnosis some- 
times most extraordinary. He is one of the most suspicious 
persons I ever encountered. He is continually seeking to con- 
vince us that he is a great man, and that we do not sufficiently 
value his talents. He likes much to make a show, and gener- 
ally talks during the whole operation." 

At a later date, when speaking of another distinguished 
surgeon, he says : — 

" Roux has gone to Italy, having completely quartered an 
old man of about seventy, while operating on a tumor of the 
shoulder joint, which Dupuytren had refused to undertake. In 
general, I decline to criticise the work of great men, who are 
often most unjustly attacked; but the performances of Roux, 
which depend entirely on a desire to operate without the least 
consideration of the case, seem to me fair game. This patient 
died an hour after the operation. Without it he would prob- 
ably have lived five or six years longer." 1 

1 The ostentation of some of these illustrious surgeons surpassed belief, and their 
self-conceit might have been envied by Malvolio himself. One of them said in the 
presence of Dr. John C. Warren, " Je couperais raon pere en deux si le sang ne 
coulaitpas;" and it was wittily and plausibly said of Chirac, court physician to 
Louis XV., that " entendant parler du Lazare ressuscite, il dit d'un air sournois, 
' S'il etait mort de ma facon ! ' " 

When one calls to mind the remorseless cruelty of these men, it is truly refresh- 
ing to read a remark of Velpeau to Dr. John C. Warren in 1837 : " Velpeau ques- 
tioned me on the subject of Hydrocele. He said he never failed with injection, and 



DUPUYTKEN. 85 

Unfortunately in many cases the patients were pre- 
pared for the worst by the treatment to which they had 
been previously subjected, and which was often extremely 
cruel. Said Dr. Warren of Dupuytren : — 

" For brutality I do not think his equal can be found. If 
his orders are not immediately obeyed, he makes nothing of 
striking his patient and abusing him harshly. A favorite prac- 
tice of his is to make a handle of a man's nose, seizing him by it 
and pulling him down on to his knees, where he remains, half in 
sorrow, half in anger, until he is allowed to rise and describe his 
symptoms." 

Of the various eminent surgeons of whom Dr. Warren 
saw daily more or less during his studies in Paris, the 
acknowledged leader was Dupuytren, who was the prin- 
cipal manager of the Hotel Dieu, the largest hospital, — a 
position which he had achieved in 1815, after a desperate 
struggle, and had retained ever since. He was termed 
by his countrymen "the Napoleon of surgery," and for 
many reasons he certainly deserved the title. He was 
now seated on the proud eminence he had gained with 
a firmness that defied all rivalry. He towered over his 

that we were butchers to practise incision. " One can hardly avoid a feeling of 
satisfaction at the death of Boyer, whose many patients would seem to have been 
partly avenged by his final agonies for the tortures he had caused them. " Boyer 
is dead after three days' illness," wrote Dr. Warren, under date of Dec. 14, 1832. 
" It was the result of collapse from the application of eighty leeches to the region 
over the kidneys, for the alleviation of the intense pain caused by the passing of a 
calculus. His loss will not be much, except to his family, and will be hardly felt in 
the surgical world. For the last two years he had been somewhat blind, and his 
hands were not very steady, though he still continued his operations, much to the 
suffering and mutilation of the unfortunates who fell into his hands." 

When Dr. John C. Warren was visiting London in 1838, Sir Astley Cooper told 
him that while going over the Hotel des Invalides with Baron Larrey. surgeon-in- 
chief of that institution, the latter observed that he had never lost a case of ampu- 
tated shoulder. Stepping into the dissecting-room shortly afterwards, Sir Astley 
saw a man lying dead with his shoulder amputated. " What was the cause of his 
death? " he inquired. " Inflammation of the lungs," replied Larrey, without changing 
a muscle. " Larrey told me," says Dr. Mott in his " Travels in Europe," " that he 
amputated fourteen arms at the shoulder joint the morning after the battle of 
Wagram, and performed more than two hundred amputations after Austerlitz ; " 
but he does not appear to have informed the doctor how many of his patients sur- 
vived, and the latter was not " so superfluous to demand." 



86 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

gigantic work, lecturing daily to vast throngs of students 
and visiting scores of patients, with herculean energy and 
robust endurance. He began his labors at the Hotel 
Dieu with the dawn, and these were followed by a lec- 
ture and operations. He had a small though muscular 
figure, a fine intelligent face, and gray hair. In the hos- 
pital he wore a white apron of coarse cloth. Though 
really callous to the pain of others and generally pitiless 
towards those upon whom he was about to test his skill 
in the use of the knife, there were times when he played 
with them like a sleek and velvet-footed tiger, and the 
most endearing epithets flowed over his lips. " Mon bon 
garcon," " Ma belle fille," " Chere dame/' and other ten- 
der blandishments would then glide smoothly forth, as it 
to mitigate the keenness of his instruments and soothe 
the apprehensions of approaching anguish. Unhappily 
these seldom long continued, but quickly made way for an 
excessive irritability, especially if the victim gave unsat- 
isfactory replies, or in any other way excited his animal 
nature. In that case the abuse which followed proved 
the thinness of his apparent sympathies ; and what he 
failed to gain by flattery he extorted by the terrors of his 
invective, or even by downright blows. 1 

In his real character, Dupuytren offered a combination 
of the man of genius and the savage. He was of the 
true Napoleonic type. He invariably displayed the most 
audacious and systematic contempt for the truth. He 
was correctly described as " esclave et martyr de son 
ambition et de sa vanite." His motto was, "Peu lire, 
beaucoup voir, et beaucoup faire." Crushing peremp- 
torily all around him, he was sharp to detect and instant 
to suppress any dawning rivalry. His omnivorous ambi- 
tion and ceaseless activity left little for any one else to 

1 It would perhaps be only just to impute a portion of these failings of Dupuy- 
tren to the nervous irritability and anxiety which would naturally follow from his 
prominent position and the great responsibility entailed by the delicacy and 
importance of his operations. 



DUPUYTREN. 87 

glean. 1 In his intercourse with the students he was 
haughty, disdainful, tyrannical, and suffered no ques- 
tions. His unbounded self-esteem led him to despise no 
means, however pitiful, to spread his fame ; and this 
quality joined to his avarice resulted in many acts hardly 
dignified. Thus he permitted his name to be attached to 
a recipe for the itch, and to another for promoting the 
growth of the hair. His skill and fertility of resource 
were matched only by his dexterous manipulation and 
the perfect control he ever retained over his nerves. As 
a lecturer his expositions were clear and precise, with a 
choice of expressions often elegant and, to use the lan- 
guage of his biographer, " avec un tel enchantement 
d'idees que tout le discours semblait dicte par une 
logique superfine." Of him Dr. Warren wrote in 1864 : 
" He was by far the best lecturer of his day ; delivering 
his ideas with wonderful clearness, and always discussing 
questions of the greatest practical importance." Dupuy- 
tren died in his prime like an exhausted volcano, the 
victim of labors and emotions which forbade him to hope 
for old age. As to glory, there was nothing for him to 
desire ; and the same might be said as to fortune, for he 
left three millions of francs, well illustrating the ancient 
maxim, " Dat Galenus opes." 2 

From the correspondence of Dr. Warren, a few ex- 
tracts relating to Dupuytren are here given. They will 

i Journal of Dr. John C. Warren, Dec. 5, 1837 : "Dined with M. Guerin at 
Passy. He is the editor of the ' Gazette Medicale.' He doubted Dupuytren's 
veracity, as do most surgeons, and said that Dupuytren was engaged to marry the 
daughter of Boyer, but on the evening before the wedding was to have come off, 
sent a note of refusal. Boyer allowed his friends to assemble, read the note to 
them, and then celebrated his daughter's escape from so bad a man. Dupuytren is 
universally execrated for his private character." 

2 Dr. Warren's Paris journal records this little incident : " Dupuytren is now 
becoming rather careless in his operations, from too great confidence in his own 
powers. He was brought to his senses the other day by an accident which will make 
him more careful in future. While operating for strangulated hernia, at the second 
cut he penetrated directly into the intestine. Raising his head with great coolness, 
he said, ' Voila, messieurs, la matiere fe'cale,' and without another word quietly 
stitched up the wound." 



88 JONATHAN MASON WAEEEN. 

be found interesting as studies by a capable observer 
of a man whose natural talents, indomitable will, and un- 
tiring industry impressed themselves upon his age with 
a depth and persistency that will long prevent his name 
from falling a prey to oblivion. 

Paris, Nov. 22, 1833. 
Dupuytren has been seized with an apoplectic fit, I believe, 
however, not so serious as to threaten his life. He has been left 
with a paralysis of one side of his face, the mouth being some-, 
what drawn up. He has had leave of absence for six months, 
and has left Paris for Italy to spend the winter. 

March 30, 1834. 

Since my last letter Dupuytren has returned to Paris in per- 
fect health, and the next month resumes his clinique at Hotel 
Dieu. So far as I have been able to learn, his illness came on 
very suddenly with the ordinary symptoms of apoplexy, not in 
a serious form, and left him with one side of his face slightly 
distorted. This, however, soon passed off after he left Paris. 
Dupuytren is a very well formed man, a little inclined to corpu- 
lency, with a short neck and an injected face, that of a bon~ 
vivant. He has been accused, and no doubt justly, of passing 
his evenings at the great H6tel (or Cercle) des Etrangers, the 
largest private gambling-house in Paris, where playing is carried 
on to a very late hour. According to the state of his temper 
the next morning, his students are informed whether he lost or 
won on the previous evening. This, at least, is the story. 
There is no doubt of his savage disposition at times, which I 
usually watched, taking good care not to follow too closely upon 
his heels, as I have seen him use a couple of Englishmen very 
roughly, who had inadvertently pushed on to him. His voice, 
when he chooses, is one of the softest and most harmonious 
imaginable ; and by a person who saw him in one of his pleasant 
moods addressing his patients with his " Comment vous portez- 
vous, mon cher ? " he would be taken for the most amiable of 
men. If anything, however, opposes his whims, he bursts forth 
like a very lion. 

To his private patients Dupuytren is another man from 
what he is in the hospital. Towards them he displays the most 
perfect politeness, as also in his reception of strangers ; but to 



DUPUYTREN. by 

the latter I am told it is the cold, civil politeness of duty. I 
shall go to see him as I do a curiosity or the wild beasts at the 
Garden of Plants, and not with the hope of any attention. You 
mention having been an interne of Dupuytren, 1 and I think 
you must have seen the seeds of the portrait I now draw. He 
has made a very prosperous tour in Italy, not only as regards his 
health, but from a professional aspect, as patients flocked from 
great distances to put themselves under the care of the eminent 
French surgeon. 

As an operator I have never thought very highly of Dupuy- 
tren. He is too confident, and does not conduct his operations 
with that care which, you show, nor is he as judicious in his 
treatment before and after the operation, nor is his ultimate 
success as great as you experience with your patients. 

April 8, 1834. 

I was at Hotel Dieu this morning to hear Dupuytren's 
second lecture since his return from Italy. He commenced in 
the same slow measured manner as is his custom, and expresses 
himself in the same clear way ; but to a person accustomed to 
him there is a certain thickness in his pronunciation which 
shows the remains of his disease. In his walk he has lost 
much of his firm commanding carriage, and is evidently 
greatly enfeebled. I observed also that he wore a cloak, — 
a thing that he never did before, even in the coldest days of 
winter, always coming in to his visit with his coat open and 
no outside garment. 

April 28, 1834. 
I called last week on Dupuytren, and was received by him 
very politely. He lives in a very nice apartment just on the 
Place du Louvre, facing the Seine. He looks much better in 

1 Dr. John C. Warren, in his " Surgical Notes," when describing his Parisian 
experiences in the year 1800, remarks : " Dupuytren, who was of about the same 
age as myself, but much more advanced in science, lived under the same roof. . . . 
I attended one of his first courses (it might have been his very first), and was sur- 
prised at the minuteness and extent of his knowledge ; but I was not suspicious at 
that time that he was destined to stand at the head of French surgery. He had 
great natural abilities, but he owed his reputation as much to his industry as to his 
talents. He was quick in his perception, determined in his resolution, and unscrupu- 
lous in his operations. He necessarily lost many patients ; but his operations were 
so ingenious in plan and brilliant in execution that he was always followed by a 
crowd of students in preference to other operators." 



90 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

liis chambers than he did in the lecture-room. Among other 
topics of conversation I asked him if he had ever seen any 
cases of dislocation of the hip behind and downwards. He 
said he had, — two ; one occasioned by the man's falling from a 
scaffolding and striking the foot and knee (in fact, the whole leg) 
while in a bent position, thus driving it down out of its socket. 
Both cases were reduced immediately after the accident. 

He pleaded his feeble health as an excuse for not showing 
me the attentions he otherwise would. I of course told him 
that I merely expected from my visit the honor of presenting 
my respects. Dupuytren's sight is as good as ever ; in truth, it 
is a remarkable fact, no surgeon that I have encountered in 
Europe is obliged to have recourse to spectacles. 

Feb. 12, 1835. 

Since my last letter we have lost our great authority in sur- 
gical science, M. Dupuytren, who died the day before yesterday, 
after a long and lingering illness, no doubt much accelerated by 
his free mode of life and the violent passions to which he occa- 
sionally gave way. He retained his faculties till the day of his 
death, and occupied himself in dictating to his friends and his 
physicians the disposition he wished of a portion of his property 
which he left to the Medical School, and also of some of his 
unpublished papers. 

The disease of which he died is not yet satisfactorily stated 
in the journals, but we shall probably have in the " Medical 
Gazette " of this week a detailed account of his autopsy. It 
seems that the heart was diseased, and the remains of the 
epanchement which caused the attack of apoplexy in the spring 
were found in the brain, and some calculi in the bladder and 
kidneys. He did not allow any person to know what his exact 
state was ; and it is said that until the last days of his life no one 
knew whether he was to die or get well, as he put on a feigned 
appearance when visited by his physicians, thus carrying out to 
the end his stern independence and eccentric disposition. By 
his will he has left the great bulk of his property, seven or eight 
millions, to his daughter, an only child, married to a peer of 
France ; 200,000 francs for the foundation of a chair of Surgical 
Pathology and for a museum in the Ecole de Medecine ; and 
300,000 francs for a hospital or asylum for twelve old retired 
physicians. It is said that he suffered much during the latter 



DUPUYTREN. 91 

part of his life from noise in the street and in his hotel, there 
being a ball in the room over his head the night preceding his 
death. This was, in fact, the cause of his bequest. 

His funeral took place yesterday, and was attended by the 
professors and nearly all the students of the School of Medicine. 
The students on the way to Pere la Chaise took the horses from 
the hearse, and dragged it themselves to the tomb. At present 
I see no one who can at all aspire to his place. His lectures on 
surgical pathology were unique, and I have never heard any 
person attempt to treat the subject in the manner which he has 
introduced into his clinique. It is said that before he died he 
sent for Lisfranc and Richerand, his old enemies, and made 
friends with them. Whether this be true or not, I am ignorant. 
Lisfranc, however, in his legons has of late quoted Monsieur 
Dupuytren, — a thing which he has never done before. Dupuy- 
tren's life seems to have been passed perhaps as bitterly, consid- 
ering the illustrious place he has attained, as can possibly be 
imagined. He had few friends, — no doubt from the repulsive 
manners which belonged to him, produced by the battles for 
distinction and the domestic troubles at the commencement 
of his career. 



CHAPTER VI. 

LIGHTS OF THE SURGICAL PROFESSION IN" PARIS HALF A 

CENTURY AGO. 

Almost the equal of Dupuytren in many respects, and 
certainly the nearest to him in rank and parts, was Lis- 
franc. He was at the head of the Hospital of La Pitie, 
and even went beyond his great rival in the inflated ego- 
tism, the fulsome self-praise, and the caustic detraction 
of others which pervaded his lectures and his writings. 
Quick to assert his rights and to proclaim his wrongs, he 
was one to give and to receive hard knocks without winc- 
ing-. His coolness and self-control were marvellous. " Au 
milieu du sang verse et quels que fussent les cris du pa- 
tient, il restait calme et judicieux, maitre de lui-meme et 
du peril." He had a decided taste for blood, and liked to 
welter in it, none the less that he had been through sev- 
eral of Napoleon's sanguinary campaigns with distinction. 
He would have taken charge of a guillotine with perfect 
composure. He was a great phlebotomist, and Dr. Holmes 
writes that he " saw him one morning order ten or fifteen 
to be bled." His knowledge of surgical anatomy was 
wonderfully exact. In this even Dupuytren was not his 
superior. The impression made on the students by his 
exquisitely delicate, swift, and effective touch was dazzling 
and overpowering. Says Dr. Warren : — 

u His amputations of fingers and toes are very neat and rapid, 
and all his operations are marked by a kind of off-hand way, 
not premeditated, but depending entirely on the state of the 
disease for the extent to which he carries them. I have seen 



LISFEANC. 93 

him work away on a cancer of the eye, chiselling the bones of 
the head, till I expected every instant to see a part of the brain 
make its appearance." 

Even Lisfranc's enemies, of whom there was no lack, ad- 
mitted that on this field he held his own without a peer. 
In a subsequent letter Dr. Warren writes : — 

" I have finally decided to follow Lisfranc rather than Vel- 
peau, as, though probably not so scientific as the latter, he is 
much more original, and a vast deal of practical knowledge is to 
be gained from his lectures. I have just made an arrangement 
with one of Lisfranc's internes to visit and take cases in his 
wards during the afternoon, as the number of students is so 
great in the morning that it is almost impossible to get near the 
beds, and quite so to follow the cases. I pass from three to four 
in Louis' wards, and from that time till five in those of Lisfranc, 
so that between the morning and the evening visits a good part 
of the day is spent at La Pitie." 

Like Dupuytren, Lisfranc also made his advent at the 
hospital with the dawn. His aspect must have given 
scanty comfort to those who were expecting him, the 
more so that to the fearful suggestions of the surgical 
white apron he added the further horror of a black cap. 
Take him for all in all, he was a spectacle for men, and 
might have startled even the ancient gods. He would 
have been an admirable subject for the pencil of Gavarni. 
He was of lofty stature, big and burly. One who saw him 
on his way to his daily duties thus delineates him : — 

" His head covered with a rusty black and red cap in the 
shape of a teacup, which stuck like a plaster to the summit ot 
his crown ; his long-waisted, scanty, snuff-colored coat, dang- 
ling about his heels, and tapering away to sharpness like the tail 
of a kite ; his curiously contrived pantaloons, loose and bagging 
about his hips, and at each stride fluttering to the wind ; his 
long shovel- shaped shoes scattering the pebbles, as he walked, 
from right to left ; his arms standing out from his body, like 
the handle of a pump, conjoined with his outstretched flexible 



94 JONATHAN" MASON WAEEEN. 

neck, which swung to and fro beneath the pressure of his 
lengthy and wedge-shaped visage, — presented one of the most 
ludicrous spectacles I ever beheld." 

That every sentence which came forth from a form 
thus striking should make a decided impression on all 
who heard him is not remarkable; and they certainly 
gave a deeper meaning to the loud and boisterous tones 
in which this son of thunder clothed his energetic teach- 
ings, to his fiery denunciation of every person and of 
everything that had aroused his displeasure, and to all 
the merciless rigors that gathered around his bistoury. 
Unsoftened by age and unchanged by experience, he 
stormed on till the end. Writing to his son from Paris 
in 1837, Dr. John C. Warren observes : — 

" I went once to hear Lisfranc thunder. He has the most 
powerful voice I ever heard from a lecturer. He speaks ill of 
everybody, and everybody of him." 

In one respect, however, he did yield to gentler influ- 
ences ; and his biographer informs us that " II finit par 
avoir un autre et immense merite : il operait peu, et 
comme a son corps defendant." 

Dr. Warren, in a letter to his father written in the spring 
of 1833, records his impressions of Lisfranc as follows : — 

" Lisfranc is a great rough man, six feet tall, with a pleasant 
face and a voice like thunder. To his patients he is a perfect 
tyrant. In his lectures he speaks with that loud style and 
gesture used by our stump orators. When any other man's 
ideas come into collision with his own, he gives him no quarter, 
but lavishes upon his opponent every epithet of abuse that the 
language affords, and this in a most satirical tone. To stran- 
gers, however, he is said to be the most polite of the French 
physicians." 1 

1 At a later date Dr. Warren mentions an edifying instance of Lisfranc's style, 
and of the amenities with which it was his habit to enliven his lectures. 

Alluding to the ancient opinion that a fistula could be cured at first by contrac- 
tion, this Thersites of his profession remarked : " Les anciens sont des animaux et 
des imbe'ciles quand ils dirent des choses de cette espece." 



koux. 95 

In striking contrast to Lisfranc was Roux, a prominent 
and tenacious rival of his, and a great pillar of the profes- 
sion. First placed over the Hospital of La Charite, the sec- 
ond in Paris, he finally became the successor of Dupuytren 
at Hotel Dieu. Antagonistic in every other sense to Lis- 
franc, he cordially agreed with him in hatred of the sur- 
gical Napoleon, whose success was a standing reproach to 
the talents and ambition of both of these contestants, and 
spurred them on to ever fresh efforts to show their re- 
sentment and undermine his influence. That Dupuytren 
held his position so long against the combined assaults of 
two such foes, can be regarded only as a further proof of 
his abilities. Roux was a dapper little man, straight as an 
obelisk, and very active and nervous in all his move- 
ments. He was also endowed with a rosy complexion, a 
snub nose, and eyes that gleamed with a peculiar twinkle 
of sly humor and satisfaction. Enjoying an immense 
popularity with all classes, he increased this by courteous 
manners and a winning presence. He wrote much and 
well, having also a decided literary taste and culture 
beyond the usual range of his profession. As an opera- 
tor he was bold, neat, and quick, to a degree hardly sur- 
passed by any. While thus engaged he rarely spoke, 
though at other times chatty and communicative ; in this 
respect the opposite of Dupuytren, who, mostly reserved, 
never ceased to talk while his knife flashed to and fro, 
winged with possible death. In operations for cataract 
Roux achieved frequent and extraordinary distinction. 
Dr. Warren heard him say, in June, 1833, that he had 
performed ninety of these within the previous fortnight. 
During his surgical career the number exceeded three 
thousand, — " chiffre immense,'' as his biographer justly 
remarks ; but his facile brilliancy was of little benefit to 
those whom he treated, as most of them eventually lost 
their eyes through the negligence and inefficiency of 
his subsequent management. In some respects he was 



96 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

favored with more liberal views than his confreres ; and 
though he marked his path with many bloody steps, and 
attached slight value to human life, he was not averse 
to possible improvement. In the address above quoted, 
Dr. Warren, speaking of the practice formerly adopted by 
French surgeons in regard to the healing of wounds after 
an operation, says : — 

" At the period when I was prosecuting my studies in Paris, 
M. Roux was almost the only surgeon of note in that city to 
break in upon this routine of irritating dressings. He had 
visited England, and had there seen the good effects of the 
simpler treatment adopted in the London hospitals, upon which 
he had written a valuable treatise." 

These three surgeons were the most conspicuous in 
their profession as operators and lecturers at the hospi- 
tals, and Dr. Warren naturally saw much of them. For 
months hardly a day passed when he was not in attend- 
ance as one or another of them made his rounds among 
the patients. The work they did was showy in the 
extreme, and the characteristic dash and eclat that 
accompanied their every movement were most dazzling 
to a surgical neophyte. With an eager craving for im- 
provement and an entire absorption in his profession, he 
followed each motion of their magical fingers with subtle 
appreciation, and treasured it up for future use. Their 
movements were stamped upon his brain, as he watched 
them, keen-eyed, — burnt into its tissue as it were, — with 
such vivid and graphic outlines that they remained in- 
delibly fixed, and he could afterwards reproduce them 
with added marvels of his own when practising his pro- 
fession at home. But in spite of their great names and 
the prestige that had spread them to the ends of the earth, 
he was not blind to their defects. No one saw more 
clearly than he those petty weaknesses which tainted 
their exalted positions, and injured in every way the 



CIVIALE. 97 

morale of all who came in contact with them. Apart 
from every other consideration, Dr. Warren's own tem- 
perament, his self-respect and kindly nature, would have 
forbidden any sympathy for that fierce abuse of each 
other, that mendacity, that perfect indifference as to the 
means they employed for their advancement, that cruelty 
and reckless disregard of human life, for which they were 
ever noted. 

There were other eminent men in the profession for 
whom he felt a far more genuine personal interest and 
nearly as great admiration, — men who, no less talented 
than these, were more retiring in their dispositions, cared 
less for pomp and display, and held themselves gladly 
aloof from the wild turmoil and aggressiveness of the 
arena. High among such ranked Civiale, than whom 
none enjoyed greater or more deserved consideration 
from the entire faculty. 1 Once a poor boy, destitute 
of all resources but those which his own talents might 
bring forth, he was now at the height of his glory, 
popular, wealthy, and admired. His famous memoir on 
lithotrity had lately been read in the Academy of Sciences, 
and the ingenious improvements he had made were ad- 
mitted to be more valuable than any yet known. The 
operations he daily performed were of astounding dex- 
terity and success. The skill he attained was almost 
miraculous. Caring not the least for effect, he wielded 
his instruments with a grace, confidence, and delicacy 
heretofore unseen in this branch of surgery. He was 
only eager that they should cause no pain, and often 
observed, with sympathetic humanity, "Grande est la 
crainte du bistouri." To him belongs the honor of first 

1 Dr. Warren had heard much of Civiale from his father, and felt an eager 
curiosity to see him at the earliest possible opportunity. When he had been about 
three weeks in Paris, he writes: "To-morrow I go to the hospital of Civiale, to 
whom I shall deliver my letter and risk my French. I have been there already 
once or twice, but did not happen to meet him. He is said to be one of the most 
gentlemanly of the French surgeons." 

7 



98 JONATHAN" MASON WARREN. 

practising this operation on the living body. His method 
was especially appreciated by our countrymen, with whom 
he was a personal favorite ; and they composed a large 
majority of his classes. His manners were most agree- 
able, and polished to the extreme of affability. To 
features regular and peculiarly attractive, was united an 
expression of great energy and decision, in which a pair 
of jet-black penetrating eyes took a prominent part. 
He rarely spoke without a gracious smile which few could 
resist. He was rather below the average size, stout, 
muscular, and well proportioned. With his other ele- 
ments of popularity was combined a generosity which 
made him much beloved ; and no one in his profession 
dispensed with a more abundant liberality the wealth 
which his own talents had acquired. To both the War- 
rens he was kindness itself from the beginning. He 
advanced their interests in every possible way ; and when- 
ever he had an opportunity of doing either of them a 
good turn, he did not expand into frothy verbosity and 
elaborate promises, like some of his associates, but gave 
it his attention forthwith. 1 When Dr. John C. Warren 
was in Paris, Civiale testified his friendship and esteem 
by every form of ample and cordial hospitality. Dr. 
Mason Warren was received into his family, and favored 
with an intimacy that was both flattering and encour- 
aging from every point of view. This lasted till the end 



1 Kind as were many of the prominent surgeons to Dr. Warren, there were others 
at whose hands he fared no better than some of his associates when presenting 
their letters. " Dr. Chervin," he writes in March, 1833, " who made such profes- 
sions when I visited him that I was obliged to restrain his offers, has never shown 
himself from that day to this. I thought at the time that here at length was one man 
to redeem the French reputation for politeness ; but I find I am mistaken, and that 
they deal only in professions. I say this not only from my own experience, but 
from that of numbers of my friends, who after having delivered their letters were 
turned off or got rid of as soon as possible. There is quite a distinguished surgeon 
here from New Orleans, Dr. Luzemburgh, who has been spending the winter in 
Paris with his wife. He presented one letter, and was so little pleased with his 
reception that he left the rest of his introductions at the door with his card, and of 
course heard from but few of them afterwards." 



CI VI ALE. 99 

of his days ; and as late as the year 1854 Dr. Warren, 
writing to his father from Paris, under date of July 12, 

says : — 

"Among the medical men here the principal attention IJiave 
received has been from Civiale, whose kindness has been un- 
bounded. He expressed much gratification at seeing me again, 
and immediately asked me with Anne and the children to dine 
with him at his country-place. On Saturday I went with him 
early to an operation for lithotrity, and afterwards to his hospi- 
tal, where he delivered a very interesting clinical lecture. On 
Saturday we dined with him near St. Cloud, with a large party 
of medical men and others. On Tuesday he took me to the 
meeting of the Academy of Medicine, and introduced me on the 
floor, my presence being announced by the President. Here I 
had the opportunity of hearing a very sharp discussion between 
Amussat and Malgaigne, the latter delivering a perfect Philippic 
against Velpeau and others in his peculiar style. 1 I think I 
have never heard such an orator, more like what we have 
heard of John Randolph than anything else. Civiale yesterday 
presented me with copies of all his own works which I did 
not possess, most elegantly bound. He has asked much about 
you, and says you are a wonder ; that he never saw so active 
a person." 2 

1 " Ainsi done, les eleves perdent en M. Malgaigne un professeur eloquent et 
plein d'un immense savoir; l'Ecole de medecine, un de ses plus glorieux membres; 
TAcademie, son orateur le plus penetrant, le plus profond, le plus brillant ; la sci- 
ence chirurgicale, une grande et belle intelligence, un de ses plus valeureux cham- 
pions; la France, enfin, un de ses plus laborieux enf ants ! " Such were the words 
— and they seem to have been but the utterance of simple truth — with which 
Velpeau concluded his oration over the grave of his former adversary in October, 
18G5. It was a masterpiece of spirited eloquence, noble sentiments, and critical 
acumen ; and the munificence of the speaker's tribute served a twofold purpose, 
for it not only held up before the world in a vivid light the talents and virtues of 
the dead, as they had revealed themselves to one whom kindred genius and long 
experience had endowed with ample faculties for their appreciation, but it dis- 
played the magnanimity of a nature which scorned to withhold the meed of justice, 
even from an enemy. 

2 Civiale won golden opinions from all sorts of people, and from no source more 
abundantly than from the members of his own profession, whose jealousy, so clear 
was he in his great office, he seems never to have aroused, even among his own 
countrymen. Dr. Valentine Mott saw Civiale in Paris in 1835, and thus wrote of 
him : " But the Hospital of Necker must not be forgotten ; for here resides the ever- 
illustrious and unrivalled Civiale, the projector and the author of that greatest of all 



100 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Very soon after Dr. Warren's arrival in Paris he called 
upon Baron Dubois, 1 who was still enjoying a serene and 
vigorous old age, after a life of hard work and exposure 
to manifold risks and perils. He had been a friend and 
admirer of the first Napoleon, and had shared his famous 
campaigns in Egypt and in Italy. Of his household 
Dr. John C. Warren was a member for more than a year 
after he began his studies in Paris, during the summer 
of 1801, greatly to his comfort and professional progress, 
Dubois being then at the head of the Hospice de l'Ecole 
de Medecine. 

Paris, Nov. 27, 1832. 
My dear Father, — I made a visit a few days since to yo in- 
former instructor, Baron Dubois. After having called a number 

triumphs for science and humanity, of that master-innovation in the treatment of 
calculus, the operation of lithotrity. How much pain, how much agony, has not this 
great and good man saved to his fellow-creatures ! And how perfectly in keeping with 
his mild and unpretending demeanor and his benevolent heart has been the victory 
he has gained over one of the most afflicting and excruciating torments which it is 
the lot of mortals to endure ! Civiale is, in truth, one of the noblemen of our profes- 
sion, in all the charities that adorn our nature. In his specialty, of all the men I 
have ever seen, for delicacy of tact and adroitness of execution he surpasses. It is 
utterly impossible for any one to imagine the highly finished style of his manipula- 
tions. I have often remarked to the pupils of our country, during my residence 
in Paris, that a visit to Civiale would alone amply compensate them for their jour- 
ney to France, and that it was worth all the expense to a young man to learn a 
lesson from him ; for it would teach, above all other things, what apparently 
almost insurmountable obstacles persevering resolution and matchless skill in the 
use of instruments can overcome." 

1 In an address before the American Medical Association, May 8, 1850, Dr. 
John C. Warren thus refers to Dubois : " Dubois was afterwards Baron of the Em- 
pire, Member of the Legion of Honor, and a great friend of the Emperor Napoleon. 
The emperor employed him to officiate on the occasion of the birth of his son. 
When a difficulty occurred in the accouchement of the empress, and Dubois repre- 
sented to Napoleon that she would not be relieved without the application of con- 
siderable force, Naxjoleon immediately replied, ' Treat her in the same manner you 
would a bourgeoise.' Dubois was an admirable operator; and I found it a great ad- 
vantage to pass my time, while in Paris, in his family, and in the hospital in which he 
officiated. His operations for the stone were performed with a rapidity so great that 
one could scarcely follow him in the successive steps. The knife he employed was 
of the size and form of an oyster-knife, cutting on both edges. He performed the 
operation for the extraction of cataract, also, with wonderful adroitness. But I 
remember a case in which the extraction of the lens was followed by the ejection 
of the whole contents of the globe of the eye, on which Dubois very coolly said to 
the patient, ' Mon ami, vous avez perdu votre oeil.' " 



DUBOIS. 101 

of times, I finally succeeded in finding him at home. I waited 
awhile in his anteroom before he made his appearance. A short, 
stout man at last entered, dressed in small-clothes and boots, 
with a black silk nightcap on his head. He took my letter 
without saying anything, and asked me to come into his study. 
I told him that my father, Dr. Warren, one of his former eleves, 
was desirous that I should call and inquire into the state of his 
health, etc. He asked me what city I was from, and on my 
telling him, he very coolly asked me to sit down, and placed my 
letter on the table without opening it. I asked him if he 
remembered you. " That is the reason that I do not open his 
letter," he answered. " I have always inquired of every person 
I have seen from America how Dr. Warren was ; for I loved 
him much, and I am very happy to see his son." He then asked 
me to dine with him and his son, who, he said, spoke English. 
He frequently corrected me in my French, saying that he took 
that liberty, " car je vous considere comme mon fils." I went 
to his house at half-past five, and found him seated in his study, 
with his slippers and a newspaper, taking his ease. His son 
and son-in-law, both physicians, soon entered, both of them 
kissing him in the true French style, calling him " mon petit 
papa." We had a very agreeable dinner together, the old 
gentleman leaving the conversation entirely to his sons. I was 
much pleased with the affectionate style in which they treated 
him. Dubois at present practises but little, and that in partner- 
ship with his son. He still, however, lectures. He is not on 
good terms with Dupuytren, and advised me, if I called on him, 
not to mention his name, as it would be no recommendation. 
This jealousy of one medical man for another is a thing I have 
remarked throughout Europe, particularly here and in Edin- 
burgh. Hearing Lisfranc speak of Dupuytren, you would think 
him some miserable creature who had escaped the gallows, — 
84 le brigand de la Seine," as he commonly calls Dupuytren. In 
Edinburgh I was shown, at Liston's Museum, a preparation of 
the bladder, etc., with a bougie pushed through the middle of 
the urethra and entering the centre of the bladder. This was 
stated by the conductor to be the handiwork of a surgeon who 
lived not far off (Mr. Syme). Almost the only man I have 
yet seen without this feeling is Sir Astley Cooper, who is the 
proper gentleman. Dubois gave me an engraving of himself, 



102 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

taken a few years since, and much more like him than the one 
you have, which I told him you preserved with great care. I 
left him with an invitation to breakfast whenever I should feel 
disposed. 

Shortly before quitting Paris for home, in 1835, Dr. 
"Warren had a final interview with Baron Dubois, who had 
then reached the good old age of seventy -nine. 

" I called on old Dubois yesterday for a farewell visit. He 
inquired after your health, and desired his most affectionate 
remembrances. His health is good, and he looks well preserved. 
I have seldom seen a more mild and pleasant expression on any 
countenance than that of Dubois. When taking leave he 
saluted me in the French way, on both sides of the face, apolo- 
gizing for it as a French custom. I have met no man in France 
who has interested me more than Dubois." 

Another of those surgeons of Napoleonic days, now the 
heroes of history, who, as surgeon in chief of the Grande 
Armee, followed the great conqueror from field to field 
and from victory to victory, and whose skill preserved 
many ghastly reminders of his achievements, often but 
half rescued from the graves into which they might have 
done better to pass, was Baron Larrey. Across the burn- 
ing sands of Egypt and the snowy wastes of Russia, to the 
crowning calamity at Waterloo, where he was wounded 
and captured, he followed his leader with an unsparing 
devotion and self-sacrifice which called forth the warm- 
est expression of Napoleon's friendship and approval, 
so that when dying he bequeathed a final souvenir, "a 
l'homme le plus vertueux que j'aie rencontre." l He was 
now at the head of the Hotel des Invalides, and though 
nearly seventy, still labored with the sanguine faith and 
enthusiasm of youth, yearly publishing valuable memoires, 

1 The form and stature of Larrey strikingly recalled those of his great leader, 
and he was wont to add to the resemblance by wearing the identical three-cornered 
hat which Napoleon himself made so famous, and which he gave to Larrey with 
the flattering remark that " it seemed to fit him best." 



LARREY. 103 

rich with suggestions of decided promise, which flowed 
full and free from a mind ever teeming with plans for the 
alleviation of human misery. 

Paris, Nov. 5, 1832. 

My dear Father, — I made a very pleasant and instruc- 
tive visit a few days since to the H6tel des Invalides, where I 
attended Larrey in his rounds. He is a short corpulent man, 
with a very agreeable face. His hair, which is gray, falls in 
curls over the straight ornamented collar of the military coat 
which he wears during his visits. He was very polite to Dr. 
Peirson, who was introduced to him by an Italian gentleman, 
and took great pains to show us all the remarkable cases, many 
of which he referred to as being described in his books. He 
also showed us his case of amputating instruments which he 
had with him in Egypt. He spoke much of his inventions of 
different kinds, particularly of an amputating knife with a 
curved blade, which, he said, cut off the leg more expedi- 
tiously, from its embracing a greater surface. 

I think I have heard you state in your lectures, that no matter 
how much a blade was curved, nothing was added to the celerity 
of the operation, as it cut only on one point at the same time. 
Larrey, however, if he has anything he thinks his own, will not 
give it up for anybody. The most remarkable cases were : — 

1. Lower jaw shot off; the tongue hung down upon the 
front of the neck. To remedy this, a curved plate was tied to 
the head, having a silver lip. When this was on, the man was 
able to articulate distinctly. He had been nourished with broth 
for ten or fifteen years. 

2. Two or three cases of disarticulation at the shoulder- 
joint, with a beautiful union. One of the cases had been 
operated on two days previous, and was doing well. Baron 
Larrey showed us a case of neuralgia of the arm, from amputa- 
tion having been performed too low down. The flap is not 
sufficient, and the cicatrix presses on the bone. He saj^s he has 
seen a number of cases like this, and the best remedy is to 
amputate again. He is very fond of the hot iron. I saw him 
apply it to a large ulcer of the leg, forming an eschar over the 
whole. He stated that he had wrought some wonderful cures 
in erysipelas of the face by passing the iron over the whole 
surface. The patients were cured in twenty-four hours, but he 



104 JONATHAN MASON" WAEEEN. 

did not say how their faces looked after the operation. He 
showed us a case of cataract in which the man had been totally 
blind, but had been restored to sight by applying moxas to the 
back of the neck. 1 From this he inferred that cataract always 
depended on inflammation of the capsula. I did not see him 
operate, but intend to go there again for the purpose. 

Dupuytren, Lisfranc, and Roux were at this period 
the brightest stars in that constellation of illustrious 
names which shed their light upon the golden age of 
French surgery. Their characteristics, professional and 
other, have been here given at some length, from the 
fact of their close connection with Dr. Warren, and the 
prominent part they took in moulding his future career. 
There were, also, many others hardly less renowned than 
they, whose instructions he shared at intervals, and whose 
examples influenced him to a certain extent, giving tone 
to his mind and skill to his hand ; all the more that they 
were for the most part equally capable in surgery and 
in medicine. The great majority had come up out of the 
rugged turmoil of the French Revolution, and the renown 
they had achieved was often the enforced issue of stern 
necessity. Being as it were the offspring of chaos, they 
may be the more readily excused for the perpetual com- 
bat in which they lived. Such were Velpeau, 2 the son 
of a village blacksmith, now Professor of Clinique at La 
Pitig, — a world-wide celebrity, able, eloquent, persuasive, 
who had fought his way up to that proud height through 
every possible pain and hardship ; Sanson, of the same 
hospital, almost equally distinguished; Marjolin, first 

1 Edward Everett, in a note written a few months before his death to Dr. 
Warren, expresses a sentiment which will doubtless meet with the approval of 
all who have had their attention directed to the great deeds of surgery : " When I 
consider the horrid things you surgeons have to do, I do not wonder that the 
patient sometimes dies, but that the surgeon ever lives." 

2 " A friend of mine a few days since introduced me to Velpeau, with whom I 
was much pleased. He is well acquainted with your operations, some of which he 
had published in his ' Traite d'Anatomie chirurgicale.' " — Dr. Warren to Ids father, 
March 12, 1834. 



MARJOLIN". 105 

notary, then dragoon, now in charge of the Hospital 
Beaujon ; Cloquet ; Leroy d'Etiolles ; Amussat ; and a score 
of others, who, glorious in their day, have become dim 
shadows of the past in this. Towards Marjolin, with his 
" coeur gai et sa figure epanouie," with his easy-going 
manners and his " penchant a la camaraderie," — Marjolin, 
the jolly friend and patron of young physicians, — Marjo- 
lin, who, famed throughout the kingdom for his surgical 
attainments, yet derived an income of a hundred thousand 
francs per annum from attending upon the bilious and 
hysterical fine ladies of Paris, — Dr. Warren felt a peculiar 
partiality. Under date of Nov. 22, 1833, he informs his 
father : — 

"The lectures which I have chosen at the School of Medicine 
are those of Andral and Marjolin. Those of the latter on sur- 
gical pathology are without exception the most thorough and 
the most practical of any I have yet heard. Marjolin is now 
one of the first consulting surgeons in Paris, and has stored up 
a vast amount of facts." 

Three months later he adds : — 

" Marjolin's course continues interesting. He has just finished 
the surgical diseases of the eye, and come to those of the nose. 
Speaking of rhinoplastie, he rather disapproves of the operation. 
He says he has seen one or two noses assez naturels ; others 
like tubercles in the centre of the face ; others, again, which, 
having survived the operation without falling into gangrene, 
turned black and fell off at the first cold, the circulation in 
them having been unable to withstand the change in the tem- 
perature. Pour lui, he says, he should prefer an artificial 
nose. 1 These are made so well in France as scarcely to be 

1 With this conclusion Dr. Warren seems not to have agreed, as subsequent 
events proved. His father's " Surgical Notes " inform us that " in 1838 a patient 
applied to Dr. Mason Warren to perform an autoplastic operation for him. He 
undertook it, and with so much success that the individual has rather an aquiline 
nose than otherwise. Since then he has done the same operation with great success 
in various cases ; how many, I cannot exactly tell. In one case he restored the 
nose by a portion of skin from the arm of the patient. The operation succeeded 
in a very satisfactory way, but the patient's distress from the posture she was 
obliged to retain was so very great that he determined never to employ this mode 
again." Dr. Warren appears to have bestowed especial care upon this branch of his 



106 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

recognized ; and he mentioned the case of a medical student 
with whom he dissected for ten days without discovering any- 
thing unnatural, until the young man, being obliged to use his 
handkerchief, seized the end of his nose, turned it aside, per- 
formed the necessary operation, and restored it to its natural 
place, the nose being attached by a kind of hinge." 

There was still another class of eminent practitioners 
whose teachings Dr. Warren followed with interest and 
profit, giving them such time as he could snatch from the 
more comprehensive and absorbing demands of the great 
masters of his profession. They were the specialists, who 
had limited their chief investigations to one particular 
branch of study, in which their researches had made them 
famous. Among these were Ricord, of the Hopital des 
Veneriens; Serres, the anatomist; Orfila, who had achieved 
such renown through his chemical investigations ; Sichel, 
"l'oculistele plus repandu de Paris;" 1 Dumeril and Blain- 
ville, the eminent naturalists, the latter Cuvier's adjunct 
professor ; and others whose names might be mentioned. 

Dr. Warren, while in Paris, kept a sort of surgical 
journal, in which he wrote out copious and minute 
descriptions of the principal operations which he saw 
done by the most eminent French surgeons. This is still 
extant, and bears abundant testimony to the painstaking, 
enthusiastic devotion at this time bestowed upon his pro- 
fession. The first case entered in this journal, under date 
of Nov. 19, 1832, is here given. It is peculiarly interest- 
ing, as the result of a pistol-shot, described by one who 

profession from the beginning. Shortly after his arrival in Paris he sends to his 
father a long and minute account of several operations of this nature which he had 
just seen done by Dieffenbach, the celebrated German professor, who had already 
reconstructed over one hundred patients with various effect. He humorously 
concludes : "lam not aware whether a nose can be made according to the will of 
the patient with any particular expression, though I learn from one of my friends 
that it assumes at different periods of the treatment different characters, and the 
nez orgueilleux, the nez de'daigneux, the nez splrituel, successively present themselves." 
1 " March 14, 1833. — Yesterday I attended a soiree at the house of Dr. Sichel, 
the only professed oculist in Paris. He is a German, speaks English, and is married 
to a Scotch lady. Four languages were spoken, and not a Frenchman present." 



LOUIS. 107 

afterwards showed much skill in the treatment of wounds 
from this source, and finally published a work that gave 
his own large experience in this branch of surgery. 

"Hotel Dieu, Nov. 19, 1832.— Case of Pistol-shot. — & young 
man, having determined to destroy himself, procured a pistol, 
and having loaded it, placed it directly in the centre of the fore- 
head and discharged it. He was found lying on the floor, a 
round hole in the forehead through the skull, and the adjacent 
parts much torn. What was remarkable was that the conscious- 
ness of the patient was not lost, he answering distinctly ques- 
tions put to him. In this state he remained two days, being for 
the greater portion of the time aware of what was going on, 
though, while he saw, heard, and spoke distinctly, the sense of 
smell was entirely lost. Yesterday, after conversing with his 
friends for some time, he was taken senseless, and shortly died. 
This morning the body was examined by M. Dupuytren. The 
ball was found to have penetrated both tables of the skull, and 
then, although in the first place directed upwards, had taken an 
opposite course, and after wounding the cerebrum, lodged exactly 
in the centre of the ethmoid bone, which fully accounted for the 
loss of the sense of smell. The optic nerves were uninjured." 

In addition to this striking array of eminent surgeons, 
a large part of whom were quite as distinguished for their 
knowledge of medicine, there were many, such as Louis, 
Bouillaud, Chomel, Fouquier, Gendrin, and numerous 
other professors, who practised and taught almost en- 
tirely as physicians, and in this department were enjoy- 
ing well-earned reputations. Chief among these was 
Louis, the famous pathologist ; and to him Dr. Warren 
resorted at once on his arrival in Paris, and his instruc- 
tions he continued to follow till the end of his stay. He 
admired his method of treatment and his able induc- 
tions; he respected his vast attainments, while his personal 
character and example excited in him an enthusiasm 
which steadily increased, and which he found to emanate 
from none other. An experience of six months led Dr. 
Warren to write, under date of April 13, 1833 : — 



108 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

" The greatest pathologist in the world at the present day is, 
probably, Louis. His manner of examining diseases and his 
philosophical method of teaching have a most wonderful result 
in showing what and how little we know of internal pathology, 
and point out the only true way to arrive at satisfactory results. 
This is by numbering cases. The effect of following Louis 
properly has been such on the mind of those of my acquaint- 
ance who have been with him, that this alone would determine 
me to make great sacrifices in order to spend five or six months 
under his instructions, as I think the principles that he estab- 
lishes with regard to medicine can with great advantage be 
carried into the study of surgery. 

" With Louis knowledge comes slowly, and requires much 
reading, as it is supposed in his observations that every one 
who follows him is well acquainted with the subject. On this 
account he is not a good person for beginners in medicine to 
attend ; and in fact his students are mostly English or Ameri- 
cans who have taken their degrees of M.D., though this may not 
add much to their enlightenment, as the subject is an entire 
novelty to many, and several of the diseases he examines have 
never been diagnosed in our country." 

Louis possessed an eminently handsome and striking 
person, while the dignity of his ^meanor was rendered 
more winning by a certain blandness of manner which 
swayed every act and movement. The charm of his 
presence alone was felt by all who came into his com- 
pany. Tall and upright, his somewhat pale face bore 
the traces of profound study and reflection, though the 
affable smile by which it was often lightened revealed his 
really genial and sympathetic nature. Generous and 
unselfish, tender-hearted and assiduous in his devotion to 
the interests of others, he deserved the praise that all 
were quick to bestow upon him. Full of every kindly 
endeavor for the good of his race, his grand and all- 
embracing philanthropy knew no limits. In a letter to 
Dr. James Jackson, Jr., 1 he expressed a sentiment which 

1 For this much lamented young physician, the Lycidas of his profession, "dead 
ere his prime, and hath not left his peer," Louis cherished a sincere attachment, and 



LOUIS. 109 

was the key-note to his whole life and to the motives 
that influenced him from the outstart. " It is our duty 
upon earth/' he wrote, " to use our faculties in the best 
possible manner and for the advantage of the greatest 
number.' , 

Louis was endowed with an intellect of the highest 
order, and his powers of generalization were such as ordi- 
narily are possessed by none but the ablest men. He 
was the most careful, impartial, and honest observer 
that his profession has yet known. To such a spirit 
the dark territories of pathology in his day offered an 
illimitable field for exploration. Keen, clear-headed, and 
far-reaching, he was capable of weaving great numbers of 
facts into one definite result and rule of conduct. He 
saw the need of a fundamental knowledge of structure, 
and was ambitious, above all things, to enlarge the scien- 
tific rational basis of his profession, and to reveal new 
connections and facts hitherto hidden. Eager for the 
truth, and aware that of all dangers a fallacious certainty 
is the greatest, he was always seeking for more light. He 
was quick to detect error in any guise, however plausible, 
and dreaded only that darkness which is the offspring of 
bigotry and ignorance. Lavish of self, he was considerate 
of others. His life was a continual lesson of courtesy and 

an affection which seemed only to increase as the years passed on, and deepened 
his sense of the loss experienced by both himself and the whole medical fraternity. 
" Louis is on the most intimate terms with Jackson, and treats him like a son," 
wrote Dr. Warren shortly after he had begun his studies in Paris. Years after Dr. 
Jackson's death, Louis, when speaking of it to an American physician, exclaimed : 
"Ah! pauvre jeune homme, pauvre jeune homme ! II fut un honneur du genre 
humain ; si modest, si bon, si prudent, si affectionne et si obeissant ; et cependant, 
quoique si jeune, il possedait tout le jugement, la sagesse, et la connaissance d'un 
age mur." 

It was to Louis, " who was regarded by the subject of this memoir as a second 
father, not with more admiration than filial respect and affection," and to Dr. Boott, 
" whose bright mind and pure and elevated virtues inspired the most ardent and 
sincere love in his young friend," that Dr. James Jackson dedicated that sad memo- 
rial of his son, — surely one of the most deeply affecting tributes ever offered by a 
sincere and manly soul as a solace to blighted hopes and to parental affection that 
had been wounded even unto death. 



110 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

toleration. Conscientious, persevering, judicious, he dis- 
dained the noisy din of controversy, while the loud clang 
of anger and jealousy, the sharp thrusts of spite and 
malice, only excited his contempt. Buoyed up by noble 
aims and a conscious beneficence, none envied him his 
progress towards that sure reward of which he enjoyed 
a pleasing foretaste in the love and reverence of all who 
knew him. 

Such was the man to whom Dr. Warren betook himself 
before he had been a week in Paris, and whose steps 
he continued to follow with unswerving allegiance and 
steadily increasing confidence for three years. From no 
other of his Parisian teachers, it is safe to say, did he 
derive more permanent profit or greater encouragement 
in his studies. He yielded at once to the contagion of his 
enthusiasm and to the inspiration of an example which 
drew him ever onwards. From him he derived much of 
that maturity of thought, that compactness and solidity 
of idea, that self-confidence, born of well-defined truth 
and patient research, which distinguished him, and en- 
abled him to impress on others a sense of the merits 
daily and almost unconsciously absorbed from his instruc- 
tor. From him he learned, above all things, to hesitate 
at no labor and spare no effort till he too became a master 
of his art. Strong in his strength and urged by every 
worthy motive, he moved resolutely on, pressing from 
better up to best, and well aware of the truth so clearly 
set forth by one who at that very time and in that very 
city, with more than manly toil, was forcing a path to 
fame through darkness and tears, through poverty and 
despair : — 

" Le travail constant est le loi de la vie, et j'eprouve le 
besoin pour arriver a une reputation de to uj ours fa ire 
mieux." 



CHAPTER VII. 

LIFE IN PARIS. — AMERICANS IN EUROPE. — PATERNAL LET- 
TERS AND ADYICE. — PARISIAN SUNDAYS. — LE RESTAU- 
RANT FLICOTEAU. LES TROIS FRERES PROVENCAUX. 

Dr. Warren had much reason to be grateful for the 
associates that surrounded him during the whole of his 
three years' absence, and in whose company so large a 
part of his time was necessarily spent. The coterie of 
young doctors in the midst of whom he at once found 
himself on his arrival in Paris, were many of them from 
the United States, and not a few from his native city. 
With some changes this continued to the end of his 
foreign life. Mostly these fellow-students were very 
agreeable to him ; and though they could not quite 
satisfy his craving for home and kindred, they did much 
to allay it for the time. The cordiality of their welcome 
put him forthwith on the easy footing of friendship, while 
united interests drew him and them ever more nearly to- 
gether. Being gentlemanly in their manners, sentiments, 
and culture, he was quickly en rapport with them. They 
fairly represented the best blood and talent of their own 
land. Animated by worthy motives, their influence upon 
each other was strong, healthy, and inspiriting, and gave 
infinite promise of future good. They were no mean 
examples of the results that had already accrued from the 
institutions of the New World, — of its youthful vigor and 
growing aspirations. They would have been regarded as 
a credit to any country by all whose minds had not been 
warped by jealousy, blinded by prejudice, or contracted 
by long running in deeply worn and narrow ruts. Dr. 



112 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Warren's friend, Dr. Greene, who arrived with him in 
Paris, long remained there ; and so also did Dr. Henry I. 
Bowditch, who still lives to show the strength and beauty 
of the structure of which he was then laying the founda- 
tions. From another friendship Dr. Warren at this period 
derived peculiar pleasure. Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, 
fresh from the Massachusetts Medical School, was also 
pursuing his studies in France ; and a congenial humor, 
which made the moments glitter as they passed, joined 
to mutual ambition, earnestness of purpose, and a high 
ideal, brought them much together. 1 Dr. James Jackson, 
Jr., whom he had met in Scotland and elsewhere during 
the preceding summer, had, with this exception, been 
in Paris since May, 1831. In his society Dr. Warren 
felt an ever new delight, and was soon conscious of 
that attachment, and admiration as well, which he sel- 
dom failed to elicit from all who came within the range 

1 Of the gay experiences of Dr. Holmes while thus nourishing his professional 
youth, was born one of its agreeable souvenirs, familiar to all his admirers under 
the title of " La Grisette." 

"Ah, Clemence! when I saw thee last 

Trip down the Rue de Seine, 
And turning, when thy form had past, 

I said, ' We meet again,' — 
I dreamed not in that idle glance 

Thy latest image came 
And only left to memory's trance 

A shadow and a name." 

This appeared in the first collection of his poems, published in 1836, and was 
doubtless written in Paris at the time of which we are speaking. It still retains 
the bloom and flavor of that early and auspicious ripeness, and tends to show that 
poets do not always " learn in suffering what they teach in song." 

In the light of subsequent events one may be allowed a passing comment on this 
verse. In spite of dreary prognostics, it would seem that it was the poet's ulti- 
mate fate, when the sound of the grinding was low, to meet his friend again, and 
that, of all places in the world ! on the Common, — sed quantum mutata ab ilia ! 

" My ear a pleasing torture finds 
In tones the withered sibyl grinds, — 

The dame sans merci's broken strain, 
Whom I erewhile, perchance, have known, 
When Orleans filled the Bourbon throne, 
A siren singing by the Seine." 

The Flaneur. Boston Common, Dec. 6, 1882. 



AMEEICAN STUDENTS IN PARIS. 113 

of his shining example. Dr. Jackson left for home in 
July, 1833; and his friend parted from him with a deep 
sense of loss, though both were fortunately ignorant of 
the greater grief in store for them. Many others might 
be mentioned, were there space ; but these will suffice to 
show the stuff of which the companions of Dr. Warren at 
that time were made. In the fall of 1834 he writes from 
Paris : — 

" I meet here a number of fine young men who have come 
out since my journey to England. Among others, young Dr. 
Post of New York, a very gentlemanly and well-instructed 
pupil of Dr. Mott ; also Dr. Pierce of Philadelphia, a particular 
friend of Jonathan Mason ; also a son of Dr. Downes. One of 
Dr. Wistar's sons is daily expected. So that among us all we 
make a good representation of the sons of the medical professors 
in the different cities ; and it is very interesting thus to be able 
to compare the peculiarities of practice at home. As good med- 
ical students, desirous of availing themselves of the advantages 
offered in Paris, the Americans stand as high as those of any 
nation who come here, and they are surpassed by none, either as 
gentlemen or in the matter of education." 

Possessing, as they did, scholarly sympathies and devo- 
tion to their work, combined with courtesy of manner and 
general refinement, these young men held a position that 
was inevitably conspicuous, especially from the obvious 
contrast they offered to the views then commonly preva- 
lent in Europe concerning their nation. When Dr. War- 
ren first landed in England, with his intelligence, his 
cultivated taste, and that decided air of good breeding 
which speedily made him acceptable in the best society, 
his country was laboring under various imputations abroad, 
which, though deserved in certain particulars, had been 
grossly exaggerated by the envy of some, by the igno- 
rance of others lacking the means of detecting the truth, 
and still more by the persistent ill-will of various writers, 
who, knowing better than they wrote, had sought a path to 
both fame and profit by catering to the general prejudice. 



114 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Thanks to several travellers, the majority of them English, 
who had crossed the Atlantic within a few years for the 
purpose of filling their baskets by raking our gutters, our 
manners and morals had been described with pens sharp- 
ened by spite and dipped in gall. Mrs. Trollope had 
just produced her three famous volumes crammed with 
ridicule and perversion, which were to line her pockets at 
the expense of her veracity ; and her countrymen were 
enjoying them with a zest to which there was no draw- 
back. A few months before Dr. Warren's visit to Paris, 
the " Revue des Deux Mondes " had published an essay of 
one hundred and twenty pages entitled "Les Mceurs des 
Americains." It was the work of JoufFroy, the eminent 
metaphysician, and lately appointed Professor of Greek 
Philosophy in the College of France, whose able lectures 
Dr. Warren took an early opportunity to attend, as has 
been mentioned above. Taking for its text Mrs. Trol- 
lope's masterpiece, this essay was nominally devoted to a 
critique thereof, though it really served as a vehicle for 
not a little abuse that was wanting to her pages, — fig- 
ments, in all probability, of the author's wonderful imagi- 
nation, evolved from his inner consciousness by a process 
more creditable to his ingenuity than to his love of truth. 
That he honestly believed what he wrote one can hardly 
imagine, and we are led to infer that he could not resist 
the temptation offered by a subject so prolific in material 
for wit and satire ; but whatever may have been the pro- 
fessor's actual opinions, those he expressed were quite in 
accordance with the popular idea, and there is every 
reason to conclude that Mrs. Trollope and Monsieur Jouf- 
froy together are entitled to the credit of doing much to 
confirm those vague and derogatory opinions concerning 
America which were so extensively held at that time and 
for years after. 

This contribution of Monsieur JoufTroy appeared in the 
months of June, July, and September, 1832. Though not 



MONSIEUR JOUFFKOY. 115 

precisely within the scope of the present memoir, a few 
extracts from the article, culled at random, are here given, 
that the curious may have some idea of the light in which 
this nation revealed itself to one of the most intelligent 
minds of Europe fifty years ago. According to Monsieur 
Jouffroy, in the United States — 

" On eiit une religion comme on choisit un metier, et si on n'en 
trouve pas a sa guise on s'en passe, ou on en fait une." 

" En Europe un cordonnier reste un cordonnier ; en Ame- 
rique il peut devenir chef de secte, et cela sans renoncer a son 
etat." 

" Nous devons dire toutefois que cette grossierete de mceurs 
ne vient pas exclusivement aux Etats-Unis du principe demo- 
cratique. Une part doit en etre attribute a la jeunesse de 
l'Amerique, encore en lutte avec une nature primitive, et qui 
n'est qu'a moitie vaincue. Quand on vit au milieu des bois, 
quand on entend de son salon hurler la panthere et siffler la 
fleche du sauvage, il est difficile d'etre aussi raffine qu'une 
belle dame d'Almach ou qu'un fashionable de la Rue de la 
Paix." 

" Les Americains sont tristes et ne s'amusent jamais ; ils de- 
claignent le theatre, ils meprisent le bal et les soirees. De toutes 
les distractions connues, ils n'aiment que le jeu, qui est encore 
un calcul." 

" Le mepris pour les femmes est un autre caractere de la veri- 
table democratic" 

" Les hommes et les femmes forment deux races isolees, et ne 
se rapprochent guere que pour des choses indispensables." 

" Les pauvres femmes sont done tres abandonnees en Amerique, 
et ne trouvant aucun avantage a plaire elles en negligent les 
moyens et sont pour la plupart tres insignifiantes et assez 
sottes." 

"La les hommes, si on en excepte les pretres, ne regardent 
pas les femmes, n'en tiennent aucun compte. Ils dinent a l'au- 
berge pour ne pas les voir, meme a table ; s'il y a fete, ils 
manifestent solitairement leur joie, eux seuls prennent place au 
banquet: les femmes sont relegue'es dans une chambre voisine, 
oii on leur sert des biscuits et de la viande salee, et ou elles 
attendent patiemment la fin du repas et rheure du bal." 



116 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

From these few examples one can draw a fair conclusion 
as to the quality of Monsieur Jouffroy's criticism, and as 
to its value no less, regarded as an expose of the manners 
and morals practised on this side of the Atlantic in his 
time. If the professor had acquired no more accurate 
information concerning the philosophy of Ancient Greece 
than he claimed to possess concerning the customs of 
America, his pupils could have had little reason to pride 
themselves on their acquirements. Whether Dr. War- 
ren ever met with the article above quoted does not 
appear, — he does not mention it in his correspondence, 
— but if he had perused it, it is fair to infer that his faith 
in the writer would have been considerably shaken, de- 
spite his eloquence, his philosophy, and his lofty ethical 
generalizations. 

Thanks to the progress of the last half-century, these 
views would now be regarded as more or less fantastic 
even in Europe ; but at that period they were dominant 
everywhere, especially in England, where a natural an- 
tipathy magnified and multiplied the errors born of an 
inherent obtuseness. We were then regarded abroad, 
partly with curiosity, partly with anxiety, as a peo- 
ple of marvellous realities, of extraordinary possibilities, 
and of still more extraordinary suggestions. From our 
rapidly expanding future the wildest visionaries drew 
a fresh and vigorous life, while the conservative mind, 
on the contrary, saw but one end to our headlong 
rush. 1 

1 "In August, 1825, the Duke Bernard of Saxe-Weimar, accompanied by Captain 
Byk of the ' Pallas ' and Mr. Van Tromp, a descendant of the famous admiral of 
that name, dined at Quincy with a large party. The Duke of Saxe-Weimar was 
commanding in appearance, being above six feet in height; intelligent and unas- 
suming in conversation and manners. Unprepared for the progress of civilization 
in the United States, he expected to meet Indians in the streets of Boston, and was 
surprised that ladies should venture five hundred miles into the interior to visit 
Niagara. He had loaded the 'Pallas' with books, articles of clothing, etc., as if 
he was going to a country where the accommodations of life were not easily to be 
obtained." — Memoir of the Life of Eliza S. M. Quincy. By Eliza Susan Quincy. 
Boston, 1801. 



DE. WAEREN'S SOCIAL ASPECTS. 117 

Such to European eyes was the country from which 
Dr. Warren and his companions came to pursue their 
studies in Paris. They must have been viewed with 
astonishment by those with whom they were brought into 
close connection. One can imagine even Professor Jouf- 
froy asking himself if the peculiar manners, morals, and 
institutions which he had attributed to America could 
have produced such youths as those from its shores whom 
he daily saw before him. So far as Dr. Warren's dress 
and demeanor were concerned, he might at this time have 
passed for one of the jeunesse cloree. Before his departure 
from Boston he had already begun to assert himself not 
only professionally but in society. Good-looking, nice in 
his attire, graceful in manner, though somewhat diffident, 
bright and entertaining, given to no excess, a devotee of 
the ladies, of a light heart and full of spirits, every one 
who saw him was conscious of a gentlemanly and interest- 
ing presence. His dainty ways lent refinement and ele- 
gance to every movement. He was as neat and finished 
as an epigram. A certain gayety of temperament shone 
in his face. His demeanor was distinguished by that old- 
time courtesy which prevailed when manners were a fine 
art and had not yet entered upon their decadence. With 
this his whole nature was in accord, though it was partly 
inherited. It was the expression of a deferential polite- 
ness happily united to the sincere and ingenuous feeling 
of youth, and it abode with him to the last. None could 
have been better fitted than he to enjoy and appreciate 
foreign life, or more thoroughly prepared by habits, sym- 
pathy, and education to chime in with the manners and 
customs of the better class of Parisians, as well as with the 
highest type of French breeding and culture. He easily 
swayed level with their most winning refinements. In the 
matter of deportment there was nothing to be desired ; 
and of him might truly have been made the remark at- 
tributed to an old marquis in the days of Louis XIV., 



118 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

apropos of a new courtier: " Ce jeune homme ira loin. 
Ses manieres sont parfaites." 

And yet for society as such Dr. Warren at that time 
cared but little, and he gave up to its frivolities only that 
which his position demanded. He sought it as a desul- 
tory and necessary amusement, though never at the ex- 
pense of. his profession. " Occasionally," he wrote, " I 
get over the other side of the river into society, but with 
somewhat of an effort, as it breaks in upon other and 
more serious matters." His main object in life never 
failed to stand out clearly before him, and the sober fu- 
ture always beckoned him on unobscured by present lev- 
ity. When he did resort to the salons, the company he 
chiefly affected was not that of the gay and the idle, but 
the best he could obtain of intellectual maturity and ele- 
vation of sentiment. It was in such places only that he 
could meet a certain class of the great men of the day. 
Writing from London to his father in 1832, he says : "I 
find it impossible to avoid dinner-parties, as it is the only 
way of becoming acquainted with the people I am most 
anxious to see." He eagerly drank in the conversation of 
those older and wiser than himself, and welcomed cordially 
those instructions which were to be warmed and fresh- 
ened into a new fruitfulness by his own lively intelligence. 
Hence, even when young, he achieved a position in the 
minds of the ablest, and the regard of his fellow-students 
was leavened with an inevitable respect. Fortunate in 
the possession of a pure morality and a taste for simple 
pleasures, he was not to be led astray, though surrounded 
by temptations on every hand which to others often proved 
irresistible. Thus he was able to indulge with slight hin- 
drance that absorption in his studies which entranced 
him from the first, and slowly and steadily gained upon 
him during the whole of his foreign sojourn. " Every 
one brings home favorable accounts of you," writes Dr. 
John C. Warren in 1834, " both as to your acquirements 



DR. HOLMES. 119 

and as to your manners, which they commend over the 
frippery of many young men." When Dr. Warren was 
intending to leave Europe in the year last mentioned, Sir 
Astley Cooper intrusted him with the following note : — 

London, July 10, 1834. 
My dear Sir, — I cannot suffer your son to return without 
assuring you of his steadiness, his gentlemanlike conduct, and 
his perseverance in acquiring a knowledge of his profession. 

He will return a blessing to yourself, and I trust will pursue 
the same path as his father has done, and do honor to the New 
World. 

I have promised to send you a proposition or two, which I 
will perform as soon as I can. 

I am yours truly, 

Astley Cooper. 

Dr. Warren. 

Dr. Holmes, in his graceful tribute to the memory of 
his former friend and companion, remarks : — 

" In Paris, in London, wherever we found ourselves, he never 
for a moment lost sight of his great object, — to qualify himself 
for that conspicuous place as a surgeon which was marked for 
him by the name he bore and the conditions to which he was 
born. This was his constant aim in the hospitals which he as- 
siduously followed, in the museums which he faithfully explored. 
In the society of the distinguished practitioners to whom he had 
access and to whom he often introduced his less favored friends, 
though always at his ease and good company for any he might 
meet, he was still listening and learning. 

" We who knew this laborious man loved him, because he 
was kind and good and natural in all his ways. I do not 
remember that any one of us, even of those who travelled 
with him, — and travelling in company is the touchstone of 
infirm tempers, — ever had a hard word with him. Yet he 
was what we should have called a man of a high spirit, and 
there was some fiery blood in his veins, such as Joseph War- 
ren shed in that fierce melee which opened the war of the 
Revolution." 



120 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

In a similar strain of cordial recognition Dr. Henry L 
Bowditch has presented the impressions that he still re- 
tains of that young associate of his early days in foreign 
lands. He says : — 

" No one ever heard aught against him. On the contrary, 
the record of his life, as written on the minds of all of us, was 
that of a pure-minded, earnest youth, devoted to the high pur- 
poses of a thorough surgical education. This was in 1832-33 ; 
and of all those Americans who were students with us, the 
memory of no one is sweeter than that I have of him." 

As might have been inferred from the depth of their 
mutual attachment, an unceasing correspondence was 
maintained between Dr. Warren and his father during 
the whole of the former's absence abroad. Dr. John C. 
Warren was a man who never fell away from the grand 
ideal he had formed and steadily kept in view. In the 
sternness of his virtue and his rigid self-denial, in the no- 
bility of his aims and the daily ripeness of his whole life, 
he was no unworthy peer of Milton himself; and the let- 
ters he wrote to his son were such as could have come 
from no other source. They were richly freighted not 
only with the judicious counsels born of a sound morality 
and religious fervor, but with the dictates of worldly wis- 
dom and the maxims of a shrewd and practical observa- 
tion which had garnered up much truth, and had not 
rejected the smallest trifle that might add to the good 
estate of those who were to come after him. Every line 
bore impressive testimony to a strenuous longing for his 
son's advancement. Even had the young doctor been 
disposed to wander from the right, these letters might 
have done much to restrain his devious steps. To those 
who knew the latter intimately and perceived the matu- 
rity of his mind, the well-laid plans he had adopted, and 
the honorable career from which he seldom swerved, some 
of the contents of these letters might have appeared 



PATERNAL ADVICE. 121 

superfluous. Yet his father had already been sorely tried, 
and it was not strange that he occasionally became a prey 
to dim forebodings and apprehensions of he knew not 
precisely what. At times these amounted almost to de- 
spair. " The will of the Most High be done ! " he ex- 
claims at the close of one of his exhortations. " Our 
fondest hopes are most likely to be disappointed, and this 
by trivial circumstances w T ithin our control." It could 
not perhaps be otherwise. The father had- every confi- 
dence in the moral tone of his son, and in his resolve, to 
let nothing interfere with the main object of his life ; but 
he looked upon him from his own high level, and failed 
to make the necessary allowance for the difference in 
their dispositions, in their mental temperament, and even 
in their constitutions. A very anchorite himself, he did 
not apprehend that the abstention of which he was capa- 
ble might be impossible with others. Caring little for 
amusement, for the pleasures of the table, or for any of 
the lighter aspects of existence, he came to regard them 
as enemies, more or less invidious, whose first approaches 
were to be resisted as the signs of inevitable defection. 
In the matter of diet his opinions had long been formed, 
and they continued the same as they have already been 
given in this memoir. In 1834 he writes to his son : — 

" Do not risk the loss of all that Providence has bestowed 
upon you by any inadvertence in your food. Seeing, as I do 
every day, the most judicious persons falling victims to appetite; 
recollecting, as I do, the long struggle you have had for health, 
I, of course, feel much on this subject, especially when I con- 
sider the loss of and other fine young men. Do not tell 

me there is no danger. There is danger, especially for you. If 
you could altogether give up the use of wine, I should be more 
happy. I am constantly distracted by the idea that after all 
your acquirements your health may fail under your labors in 
study connected with your modes of living. 

"Young persons, confident in youth and strength, ridicule the 
hints and warnings of experience, or if they don't do this they 



122 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

forget them in the ardor of their pursuits. Providence has 
kindly spared you more than once when most critically situ- 
ated. It now lies with you to spare yourself by a life of steady 
temperance as to liquid and abstinence as to solid food. 

" Although I know you will feel bound to restrict yourself as 
to everything that might impair your health as much or more 
than other young men, yet seeing in my daily experience how 
much men of sense trifle with health in the early part of life, I 
feel no security on this subject when I consider what has been 
your health formerly. Health and life are much more under 
our control than we are willing to admit ; but Ave are content to 
live according to our appetites, and to put the responsibility for 
our health on Providence, instead of relying on our own effort 
at self-denial. 

" Your present way of living, going into the hospital five or 
six hours in the morning without a regular meal, is, I know 
from experience, highly injurious. I got a febrile attack while 
in Paris from this course, which impaired my strength for the 
season. You ought to make your health a primary considera- 
tion, since you have suffered so much and caused so much anxi- 
ety to your friends. You have naturally a good constitution. 
Study and a want of attention to food have twice brought you 
to the gates of death. Providence has spared 3^011 thus far, but 
I pray you to remember that without regular attention to all 
the means of preserving health you are daily liable to relapse. 

" Practise much with tools. Get a hand-saw and saw bones 
daily in every direction. Saw with your left hand. Learn to 
shave with your left hand, 1 and to dissect. Do all surgical op- 
erations on dead bodies methodically, carefully, and frequently. 
This will not require much time, and you can command bodies 
better than here. I avail myself of every opportunity of doing 
the most simple operations on the dead body. 

" Do not forget your Latin and Greek. Cultivate friends and 
correspondents. Be careful of dinner-parties. Health is easily 
lost, hardly regained. Recollect that health of body and a good 
conscience are necessary to the accomplishment of every good 
work. Make as many friends as you can among our country- 
men. Above all, bear in mind the gratitude we owe to God 

1 " Manu strenua, stabili, nee unquam intremiscente eaque non minus sinistra, 
quam dextra, promptus." — Celsus De Medicina. 



THE USE OF WINE. 123 

for so many blessings. Manifest a respect for religion, its ser- 
vices, and its great Author. In this last more of our young 
men fail than in any other quality. Neither men nor especially 
women are willing to trust their lives with one in whose princi- 
ples they want confidence. Remember, when I mention these 
things, I am speaking on the foundation of near forty years of 
experience, and I speak not lightly." 

Under date of Sept. 10, 1834, Dr. Warren's father 
writes : — 

" I wish I could convey to you the state of feeling which 
exists here in regard to the use of wine. Great numbers are 
giving it up entirely and with uniform benefit. If you could 
do this wholly, I would venture to assure you of an increase of 
health, of pleasure, and of time. If I now had all the time and 
all the health that wine has deprived me of, my life would have 
been far more valuable. But, alas ! when I was of your age, 
wine was thought necessary, and I never suspected the contrary 
till within a few years back. Depend on it that wine is the 
most certain and the most insidious enemy you can have. 1 
Take care of yourself, and may the favor of the Almighty rest 
on you is the prayer of your affectionate father." 

In his answer to this letter Dr. Warren says : — 

"With regard to the inconvenience at times occasioned by 
the use of wine I have not the least cause to doubt, having had 
convincing proofs thereof during my last visit to England that a 
continued use of the stronger wines was after a while attended 
with more or less loss of time and disturbance of health. I am 
pretty sure that with a much smaller quantity than I am accus- 
tomed to take I should not be the worse, even in France. Some 

1 Dr. John C. Warren was true to these stringent views on all occasions. In 
June, 183G, he went to Washington with a part of his family, and they were for a 
time the guests of President Jackson. The Doctor records with no little satisfac- 
tion that "Mrs. Warren gave him some good advice about his health, and recom- 
mended him not to drink wine, to which he assented." Between these two 
iron-willed men there were some striking resemblances, and no one can be sur- 
prised that they soon conceived a mutual friendship for each other. During Gen- 
eral Jackson's visit to Boston in 1834 they had several interviews ; and when the 
former was taken ill, the Doctor gave a further proof of his attachment by attending 
him with care and bleeding him twice. 



124 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

stimulus of the kind, however, is absolutely necessary, counting 
out of the question the impossibility of using the water. My 
customary hour of dining is about six, when I walk over to the 
Other side of the river to dine, where I meet two or three com- 
panions. By a general consent excesses in wine are avoided, 
and I have not suffered during the last two years from any 
effects it may have in interfering with the occupations of the 
evening, unless it be a tendency to sleepiness early after dinner. 
I generally take the Beaune wine, one of the best of the red 
Burgundies." 

Once fairly settled in Paris, Dr. Warren had quickly 
adapted himself to his new surroundings, notwithstanding 
the striking contrast they presented with the manners 
and customs of the country he had so lately left. With 
his genial and pliant temperament he found the change 
much to his taste, and the cords which had thus far more 
or less firmly bound him were easily loosened. He was 
now his own master in a land of all-pervading latitude as 
to moral and religious conduct, and where there was no 
limit to self-indulgence but self-control. That he not only 
did nothing to justify his father's somewhat morbid mis- 
givings, but really indulged in no excess, should be placed 
to his credit. Whatever he might innocently do without 
encroaching upon his professional studies he did, and he 
was very willing to go at least half-way to meet the novel 
life that was dawning upon him and with many of the 
aspects of which his feelings so cordially agreed. Among 
all its peculiar phases nothing stood out in more striking 
contrast with his former habits, or excited greater sur- 
prise, than the French manner of keeping the Sabbath. 
Though Dr. Warren's father was no bigot, and in his own 
house had exerted only a liberal and sensible pressure upon 
his children, yet he had required various religious observ- 
ances as becoming and essential. Though these were far 
removed from the exactions of a barren and meagre Cal- 
vinism, and were in no sense calculated to excite a posi- 
tive aversion, his son Mason had not given them a very 



SUNDAY IN PARIS. 125 

decided support, and it was a certain relief to his mind to 
be free from them. Dr. John C. Warren was a man of 
the deepest religious convictions, and under his roof Sun- 
day had ever been honored with reverence and a con- 
scientious propriety. His regard for the day was both 
an hereditary instinct and the outcome of his natural tem- 
perament as well, and the sober thoughts evoked by its 
weekly return harmonized fully with that solemn cast of 
mind which led him to dwell quite as much in the future 
as in the present. 1 He brought up his children to attend 
church and Sunday-school and to learn the catechism, 
while on every Sabbath evening he never omitted to 
summon them to his library for an hour's reading of 
pious books, more particularly those which he thought 
most likely to impress them with the importance of a re- 
ligious life. The effect of these teachings was excellent, 
and, as subsequent events proved, they were durably 
stamped upon Dr. Warren's mind, — all the more so from 
the respect he felt for his father's character ; but the fa- 
cility with which he proceeded to ignore them after his 
arrival in Paris plainly proved that they did not at once 
bring forth the fruit which had been expected. Certainly 
his moral sense had not as yet impelled him to look upon 
them as vital, and he was conscious of no sin in disregard- 
ing them for the present. 2 

1 " The facts you have collected and will be able to collect in support of the 
observance of the Sabbath are so numerous and so easily obtained that it would be 
useless for me to attempt to add to them. I will only remark that so far as my 
observation has extended, those persons who are in the habit of avoiding worldly 
cares upon the Sabbath are those most remarkable for perfect performance of their 
duties during the week. The influence of a change of thought on the Sabbath 
upon the minds of such persons resembles that of a change of food upon the body. 
It seems to give a fresh spring to the mental operations, as the latter does to the 
physical. I have a firm belief that such persons are able to do more work, and do 
it better, in six days, than if they worked the whole seven. The breathing the 
pure and sublime atmosphere of a religious Sabbath refreshes and invigorates the 
mind, and forms the best preparation for the labors of the following week." — Dr. 
John C. Warren to Dr. Edwards. 

2 The peculiar mental structure and disposition of the father and son are well 
illustrated by the difference in their views concerning Sabbath proprieties. Each 



126 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Dr. Warren devoted his first Parisian Sunday to the 
Louvre, and that with no apparent sense of desecration, 
but rather with obvious and light-hearted relish. " In 
Paris,' ' his journal informs us, " Sunday is considered a 
holiday, and every person enjoys himself as he best can. 
Some attend the fetes which are held in the vicinity of 
the city; others walk in the gardens, and in the evening 
visit the concerts and theatres, which on this day afford 
more than usual attractions. Everything, however, is 
done in a rational manner, — no brawls in the streets, or 
noise of drunken fellows, as on an English or American 
holiday.' ' 

Of his second Sunday he gives the following account : 

u Went out to a fete at St. Cloud, about six miles from Paris. 
It had continued three weeks, and this was the last Sunday. I 
visited the palace, which has a very splendid gallery of paint- 
ings. The tents and booths were all arranged along the public 
walk, while other tents were erected for dancing and the sale of 
refreshments. When lighted in the evening, the whole pre- 
sented a lively scene ; the superb display of lamps, the music 
and dancing in every direction, having a most brilliant effect. 
Each gentleman was required to pay four sous for every dance, 
with liberty to select his own partner. Few fine-looking women 
were present ; and in fact one seldom sees much beauty among 
the second-class French, though the liveliness and good-humor 
of the women go far to make up for the want of it." 1 

enjoyed the day after his own fashion. Dr. John C. Warren was one of the very 
few Americans — perhaps the only one — who have failed to he oppressed by 
spending a Sunday in London. To him, however, the dreary monotony of the day 
appears to have been a source of positive pleasure. Writing to his son from that 
city in October, 1837, he says : " To-day for the first time I have stayed at home, 
which I regretted the more because it was Sunday, — a most interesting day to me 
in London, for I can then visit different churches and take my long walks in the 
streets without interruption from the noise of carriages. Staying at home to-day 
in a pleasant back-chamber with a good fire, I have had time to think for the first 
time in some weeks. The distant toll of the various bells about : he upper part of 
Portland Place has excited my meditations in a most agreeable m inner." 

1 Dr. Warren had a decided taste for the beautiful under every aspect, especially 
in woman, and this he never lost to the end of his days. In his journal for Oct. 1, 
1832, we read an account of a drive to one of the king's chateaux with his land- 
lady, who evidently took a peculiar fancy to the handsome young American. It 



THE KESTAURANT FLICOTEAU. 127 

Thus agreeably, and none the less from the latent flavor 
of sinfulness which pervaded them, the Sundays were 
passed to the end. 1 At a later date another enjoyable fea- 
ture was added in the shape of a weekly dinner at the 
famous restaurant in the Palais Royal, Les Trois Freres 
Provengaux. This was rarely, if ever, omitted, and serv- 
ing as a sort of reward for the past week's labors, was 
productive of much satisfaction to Dr. Warren and a 
choice reunion of young medical aspirants with whom he 
was linked in a jovial fraternity. In this matter the convives 
were far more highly favored than the great majority of 
their fellow-students, who seldom had such a treat to an- 
ticipate. The French pupils were nearly all more or less 
impecunious, and thousands found themselves constrained 
to limit their entire expenses to an average of two francs 
a day. Marjolin's remark, " L'eleve est reconnaissant 
surtout pour ceux qui epargnent sa bourse," was of uni- 
versal application, and his own popularity was based on a 
sense of its truth. 2 Mostly they dined very cheaply, very 
scantily, and on strange meats. The Restaurant Flicoteau 
seems to have taken the lead in popularity ; and here they 
were wont to resort in a gregarious and empty herd. It 
was celebrated for the number of its patrons, if not for 
the sumptuousness of its feasts. Though not rare, the 
food was cheap. For twenty sous one could secure a 
dinner of soup, fish, and meat, with bread a discretion, 



concludes : " Not the least interesting object I saw was a pretty young woman, 
Madame Morel's niece. A pretty woman is a great rarity in France." 

1 In one of his letters Dr. Warren relates with considerable zest the story of a 
Frenchman who had spent some weeks in Boston. Being asked by a friend how 
he contrived to dispose of his Sundays, he replied, "Monsieur, je prends medecine." 

The manner in which Dr. John C. Warren passed his first Sunday in Paris in 
1837 offers a characteristic contrast to that of his son. " Nov. 13," records his 
journal, " I attended service at Mr. Baird's chapel. Excellent sermon from Mr. 
Kirk. About forty persons present. Subject, ' The duties of parents/ Form of 
service Congregational." 

2 Roux informed Dr. John C. Warren that the students " paid nothing for attend- 
ing lectures and hospitals, but those who wished to graduate paid two hundred 
francs per annum for their inscriptions." 



128 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

though this latter phrase was really of limited signifi- 
cance. To this might be added a dessert of fruit for two 
sous, and half a bottle of fair claret for six sous. Not a 
few by snipping at either end contrived to dine there for 
sixteen sous, — a depth of economy beyond which no one 
cared to penetrate. At this ordinary one could hardly 
afford to be fastidious, and it would not have been worth 
the trouble to investigate too closely the component parts 
of any dish. One's peace of mind, and bodily comfort as 
well, was far better served by admitting the bliss that 
comes from ignorance, and by contemplating without re- 
serve those plausible chromos of the cuisine with which 
the seductive bill of fare was so liberally garnished. 

To those who were able to dine more substantially than 
at Flicoteau's, — with a more vivid sense of reality, one 
might say, — the promised land lay on the other side of the 
river, in the Palais Koyal and its neighborhood. Thither, 
at six o'clock in the evening, as regularly as Sunday came 
round, Dr. Warren and a chosen company of friends — 
Holmes, Inches, Jackson, Hooper, Bethune, Bowditch, 
Greene, Morse, or whoever they might be — made their 
way, and at that savory corner of the palace — Temper- 
ance Corner, as it was facetiously termed — where the 
restaurant of the Trois Freres was situated, abandoned 
themselves for the moment to the delights of its superla- 
tive cuisine. It was renowned for its soupe a la Turc, for 
its cotelettes a la Provengale, for its croide anx ananas, and 
especially distinguished for its salads, — " sunny spots of 
greenery," little oases of cool verdure, that never dis- 
appointed the longings of the gourmand whose veins 
throbbed with the fierce pulsations of the fiery Chamber- 
tin, for which it was equally famous, and of which the 
wit remarked, " Quiconque n'en a pas goute n'a quatre 
sens an lieu cle cinque." Forty years ago Thackeray, " a 
diner-out of the first lustre," and a devotee of Paris, who 
allowed not a year to pass without proving his devotion, 



LES TEOIS FRERES PROVEXCAUX. 129 

discussed the various merits of the Trois Freres to the 
extent of six pages, — no less would have sufficed, — 
and exalted the fascinations of its Romanee gelee. "As 
nobody persisted in asking me to dinner, I went off to the 
Trois Freres by myself, and dined in that excellent com- 
pany," he says ; and few can doubt that he justified the 
epithet he applied to himself. This temple of Apicius is 
now, alas ! no more, in spite of the revolutions it survived 
and the triumphs it achieved. Having been gradually 
forced to yield to the emergencies resulting from the 
Prussian war, it closed its doors in January, 1872, — a dis- 
aster which caused more genuine emotion in many quar- 
ters than would have been excited by the destruction of 
a hundred palaces or monuments. Nor is this strange 
when one knows that men dined there with such excess 
of enjoyment as to bewail in tears their departed appe- 
tites, and to weep that there were no more worlds for the 
stomach to conquer. The trophies of the past united 
with those of the present to enrich these halls almost to 
fainting with their varied perfumes, which generations 
had gathered into a bouquet of dainty essences, in which 
like odors of sanctity the memories of innumerable wor- 
shippers were embalmed, — partridges imbued with mush- 
rooms ; fricassees de poulet flavored with almonds ; ortolans 
that might have died of a rose in aromatic pain ; and all 
the chefs-d'oeuvre that had so long wedded the poetry of 
the palate to that of the tongue. 

Dr. Warren's journal abounds in souvenirs of the am- 
brosial nights which he and his gay companions, "full 
of warm blood, of mirth, of gossiping,'' celebrated at the 
Trois Freres, causing the very air to sparkle with their 
excellent wit, their racy humor, and their revival of those 
weekly experiences which their jovial fancy under the 
contagious inspiration of the time and place enlivened 
into unsuspected brightness. Though in these days, and 
in truth during his whole life, Dr. Warren was forced to 

9 



130 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

practise much self-denial as to all matters of eating and 
drinking, and even at these scenes of peculiar enticement 
was fain to merely cast a longing glance at many of the 
viands which the art of the cook had translated into every 
shape of almost irresistible temptation, yet we may be 
sure that in all that reunion of young sybarites no one 
enjoyed more than himself. It was an exciting appeal to 
his every lighter sympathy. He had a piquant wit of 
his own ; and the infinite facetiousness of his innumerable 
stories, the fruit of an observation quick and shrewd, on 
which nothing was lost, enabled him to take his part 
with the best as they winged the hours with flying feet. 
He was a born leader in mirth, nimbly responsive to 
every sally ; but, however strong the impulse, his humor 
never degenerated into coarseness or buffoonery, nor did 
the ripple of his light laughter ever swell into the loud 
tumult of unmeaning folly. Had there been with him 
none but his friend Dr. Holmes, then at the highest top 
sparkle of youthful spirits, there would not, to say the 
least, have been any untoward sobriety; but, as it was, 
the walls of the grand old establishment had seldom re- 
echoed to the merry-making of a gayer or more sympa- 
thetic company. There are those now living to whom 
the memory of these feasts still at times recurs with lively 
interest, and who yet sun themselves in the glowing light 
transmitted by youth to threescore and ten. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

PROFESSIONAL LOYALTY. OPERATIC AND OTHER SPLEN- 
DORS. — FRIENDS FROM HOME. PATERNAL COMMIS- 
SIONS. MR. SAMUEL WELLES. 

This was an era of illustrious names in France, a 
golden revival of intellectual life, especially under every 
aspect of aesthetic enjoyment. Towering as was the 
greatness of Dupuytren and Louis in one quarter, it 
hardly cast a shadow over that of Brillat-Savarin and the 
Marquis de Cussy in another, and the achievements of 
surgery and medicine ranked side by side with those of 
the cuisine. But there were other stars no less brilliant 
in their various orbits and mighty in their influence, and 
even the triumphs of epicurism were not surpassed by many 
other allurements in their power to beguile the very best 
intentioned from their allegiance to duty. Literature, mu- 
sic, the drama, were then all aglow with a freshly spring- 
ing vigor, and daily made new appeals to culture, taste, 
and the sensuous delights of the moment, so weakening 
in their effect upon the dry details of abstemious research. 
It was thus that Dr. Warren's professional application 
was often severely tested during the whole of his stay in 
Paris, as well as the robust strength of his principles and 
his continued self-denial ; for though he occasionally gave ' 
up an evening to some masterpiece, operatic, theatrical, 
or other, and that with an enjoyment proportioned to its 
rarity, yet he allowed nothing to interfere with the main 
object which he had ever at heart. With his taste for 
music and for the fascinations that accompanied it at the 



132 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

opera, he might easily have yielded to an endless round 
of melodious pleasures, all the more that his gayety of 
temper made him naturally ready to cast care to the 
winds for the moment, whenever he might safely do so. 
But from this he was saved bv his moral tone, his hi^h 
aims, his manly ambition, and a firm determination to set 
his profession well above every belittling and degrading 
influence. He was like a rock in his unyielding endur- 
ance ; and no soft waters could undermine it, nor could 
any tumult of the ocean overthrow it. Not unadvisedly 
had his father trusted in the steadiness of his principles 
when he sent his son abroad, and in that endurance 
which was to be so strongly tempted. It was also for- 
tunate that Dr. Warren was able to benefit by the ex- 
ample which his father had ever given him of hard labor 
and untiring industry, a sovereign and reviving panacea 
against many of the ills of life. No one could have more 
consistently illustrated the truth of the sentiment that 
" man is born to expend every particle of strength that 
God Almighty has given him in doing the work he finds 
he is fit for, — to stand it out to the last breath of life, 
and do his best." 

Never were the resources of music more powerfully 
displayed to the world than at the time of Dr. Warren's 
stay in Paris. The great masters Bellini and Halevy, 
Auber and Donizetti, were then in their prime ; and so 
was a constellation of celebrated singers, more splendid 
than had yet dawned upon any age, who gave to their 
works a richness and beauty of expression greater than 
had ever been imagined. The winter of 1834 was ren- 
dered forever memorable by the advent of no less than 
three chefs-d'oeuvre, — "I Puritani " by Bellini, "La Juive" 
by Halevy, and the "Marino Faliero " of Donizetti; and 
their majestic harmonies were interpreted by artists every 
way worthy of the work confided to them, and forming 
a group of which any one would shine in our day with 



OPERATIC BRILLIANTS. 133 

unapproachable lustre, — Lablache, with his deep bass and 
far-resounding chest-notes, robust and vigorous, a Niagara 
of sonorous melody, overflowing with energetic action, 
lofty declamation, and dramatic versatility; Grisi, with 
her lovely Italian face and coal-black eyes, and the liquid 
affluence of that sweet soprano so peculiarly her own, 
while she sang, one was all ear, all sense ; Tamburini, 
whose voice, clear, piercing, elastic, rang like a silver 
trumpet. And one could also hear Rubini, and Ivanoff, 
and even Pasta, with her tragic inspiration and " grace 
and majesty as perfect as I can conceive,'' wrote Mrs. 
Kemble, with looks and gestures of tremendous meaning, 
riveting and electrifying all who heard her, w T hile their 
very heartstrings vibrated responsive as she swept the 
chords with the vehement and masterly stroke of genius 
conscious of its power. "All these, and more, came 
flocking." On the opening night of " Marino Faliero," 
the principal parts were taken by Lablache, Tamburini, 
Rubini, Grisi, and Ivanoff, — as was truly said at the time, 
" Fensemble de chanteurs le plus parfait que jamais le 
Theatre Italien ait reuni." 

To crown these perfections with a further relish, to gild 
these laurels with the glitter of a more sensuous thrill, 
came Taglioni, and after her, Ellsler. The former seemed 
suddenly sent from heaven to earth to reveal a wonder. 
Like a poet, she gave " to airy nothings a local habitation 
and a name." The grace and variety of her agile move- 
ments amazed and excited even the jaded Parisians, who 
applauded her to the operatic skies, and higher. Soaring 
apparently from nothing, like the winged Mercury, she 
sprang twenty feet into the air at a bound, the angelic 
nucleus of an insubstantial cloud of muslin. Shortly 
before Dr. Warren left Paris for home he attended her 
annual benefit. The building could not contain another 
soul, and the spectators made themselves hoarse with a 
frenzy of appreciation, as, never smiling, classically severe, 



134 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

her lithe and elegant form traced with absorbed and de- 
lightful grace outlines of passionate meaning on the silent, 
enchanted, and complaisant air. 

Under date of Jan. 10, 1833, Dr. Warren records his 
first experience of Taglioni : — 

" Went to the French opera to see Taglioni in " La Sylphide." 
Her dancing is beyond description wonderful. She seems 
hardly to touch the ground, so light and graceful are her steps. 
The play of this evening was well adapted to show her off to 
the greatest advantage, and she was received with the most 
enthusiastic applause. She is now about twenty-five years of 
age, with black hair and eyes, a most beautiful form, and limbs 
of perfect symmetry." * 

That there might be, if possible, an embarras de luxe, 
Taglioni was quickly followed by Ellsler, who made her 
debut, in the fall of 1834, at the Royal Academy of Music, 
in "La Tempete," a French travesty of Shakspeare's 
wondrous play. As Alcine the fairy, " la fleur des magi- 
ciennes," she took the town by storm, dancing " avec une 
perfection desesperante," said the critic of the occasion, 
" qui ne s'avise pas meme d'avoir des caprices. Tout 
Paris raffole de sa danse tactee et de ses pointes. ,, Noth- 
ing could surpass the infinite variety of her motions. 
Now displaying a dramatic accent and measured cadence, 
now lavish of a certain coquetry, again she glided softly 
like beauty floating in air, an airy, fairy, winged thing, 
a dancing flower, her filmy drapery faintly clinging 
like a silvery mist. She alone could fitly express the 
mysterious poses of the Tarantula and the magnificent 

1 An amusing illustration of the excitement caused by Taglioni's rapturous 
waltzing appears in a letter written in June, 1833, to Dr. Warren, by one of his 
professional friends, Dr. J. E. Morse : " I see by the papers that Taglioni is exhib- 
iting la poesie de mouvement to those John Bulls. Perhaps I may go over to see her. 
Let no man count himself happy until he has seen Taglioni in ' La Sylphide.' 
I have seen the Coliseum, Vesuvius, the Giant's Causeway, Venice, Sans Souci, 
and the chemical apparatus at London ; and I assure you that there is more 
electric fluid or animal magnetism in her foot, and more to please, than all put 
together." 



MADAME MAES. 135 

raptures of the Spanish Cachuca, which her great rival 
found to be beyond her powers. 

Nor, during this age of wonders, was the drama less 
favored than the operatic stage. At the Theatre Fran- 
cais Madame Mars, the first actress of her day in comedy, 
and capable of mighty efforts in tragedy as well, was still 
playing with all the charms and graces of youth. Though 
already long past her fifth lustre, Time had scarcely left 
even the trace of his breath upon her, and her lovely face 
and musical voice yet continued to attract the crowds 
which a former generation had witnessed. " Age could 
not wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety." She 
was the first French actress whom Dr. Warren saw on the 
stage after his arrival in Paris, and he availed himself of 
the earliest opportunity that offered to enjoy this treat. 
We read in his journal : — 

" Sept. 24, 1832. —In the evening went to the Theatre Fran- 
cois, which was crowded to the top, to hear Madame Mars in a 
new piece called 4 Clothilde.' " 

The following entry, made thirty-five years after this, 
reveals the durable impression her acting had made upon 
him : — 

"1867, April 27. — In the afternoon went with the children 
to see Ristori as Queen Elizabeth, — the finest acting I have 
seen since the time of Madame Mars." 

With Madame Mars one could also behold other great 
dramatic stars of that time, — Samson, Mirecour, Ligier, 
Mine. Arnould-Plessy, Mile. Paraclol, Mile. Georges, Mile. 
Brocard, — and a host of luminaries hardly less splendid, 
who nightly appeared to crowded houses in new plays from 
the pens of Hugo or Delavigne, of Scribe or Dumas, or per- 
chance portrayed the ancient traditions that had gathered 
round the masterpieces of Moliere, Racine, or Corneille. 
And to these immortals one should not omit to add the 



136 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

name of Frederic Lemaitre, who still shed an unfading radi- 
ance upon his own irresistible part of "Robert Macaire." 

" He who of those delights can judge, and spare 
To interpose them oft, is not unwise." 

During his long absence from home Dr. Warren was in 
one respect most happily situated. With a disposition so 
remarkably affectionate as his, and subject to such nu- 
merous and tenacious domestic ties, had he been entirely 
separated from his family the isolation would have been 
almost too depressing to bear, in spite of the absorbing 
allegiance he felt for his studies, and the strength of their 
claims upon him. But to this he was not exposed ; and it 
was very seldom that he failed to be cheered and encour- 
aged by the presence of one or more of his own kindred, 
often closely connected. He had not been six months in 
Paris before he was joined by his sister, Mrs. Susan Ly- 
man, and her husband. It is easy to imagine the recep- 
tion he gave them. The delight he experienced during 
their stay was only equalled by his forlorn sense of deso- 
lation after their departure. When they had started for 
America he wrote in his journal : — 

" Susan and Mr. Lyman, with little Charles, left me this 
morning, on their way to Havre, for a voyage to the happy 
valley. Success go with them ! Paris for the time must be 
viewed with jaundiced eyes, as something seems wanting." 

To his brother Sullivan his welcome was, if this were 
possible, still more cordial and enthusiastic. Sullivan was 
long in coming, as he had embarked for Marseilles in 
September, 1832, shortly after his graduation at Harvard, 
and did not reach Paris till the following June. Having 
ideas of his own on the subject of travelling, he stayed in 
Marseilles four months, though he had proposed to take 
a tour on foot through Switzerland in the month of Jan- 
uary, from which his brother was successful in dissuading 
him. Ultimately he decided to leave for Rome, by way 



SULLIVAN WARREN. 137 

of Leghorn, in the early spring, and afterwards, going 
north, arrived in Paris directly from Geneva. On the 
13th of April Dr. Warren writes : — - 

" Mr. and Mrs. Lyman are now pleasantly settled in the Hotel 
Meurice, just in front of the garden of the Tuileries. They are 
both in good health, and well satisfied with the approaching end 
of their journey in Europe. Sullivan has not yet arrived here, 
and I have had no letter from him since he left Marseilles." 

Dr. Warren writes to his father on the 17th of No- 
vember, 1832: — 

"I yesterday received a letter from Sullivan, who has at 
length settled himself in Marseilles. He tells me that he has 
lost his chance of becoming vice-consul there, as the place is 
filled. I think, if he does not find employment in the course of 
two or three weeks, he will do well to come to Paris and attend 
the lectures. He could devote the next summer to natural 
history, etc., and return in the autumn. From what I hear of 
Marseilles, it is the last place I should think of for the residence 
of a young man without occupation, and I imagine it offers more 
temptations than even Paris. Sullivan himself thinks so. His 
first object, I presume, is some mercantile employment. If he 
is not successful in this, please write me, on receipt of this, what 
} t ou think of his going to Paris. If he should not reach here 
before Susan's departure, I shall try to show him the city as 
soon as possible, and ship him off, which, although not so pleas- 
ant to myself, will be more agreeable to you, as he has already 
remained in Europe longer than you intended." 

Notwithstanding the resolution expressed in this letter, 
and though Sullivan failed to put in his appearance for 
more than six weeks after its date, Dr. Warren seems to 
have been unwilling to " ship him off " with any particular 
haste, as he took him into his own hotel and kept him a 
month. During his stay Dr. Warren found him, in truth, 
clearer than ever. He clung to him with all the depth of 
his affection, and gladly awarded him all the time that 
he could wrest from his studies. His letters abound with 



138 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

evidences of the pleasure that Sullivan's society afforded 
him, and with plans for his general profit and gratifica- 
tion. For the time his natural sensibilities expanded into 
a sort of fraternal enthusiasm, — a result that might well 
have been anticipated from a separation which had so 
strikingly illustrated the familiar lines of the poet : — 

" Where'er I roam, whatever realms I see, 
My heart, untravelled, fondly turns to thee, 
Still to my brother turns with ceaseless pain, 
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain." 

Dr. Warren's first year in Paris passed quickly away, — 
a result that might easily have been conjectured from the 
nature and the variety of his pursuits. To the never- 
ceasing demands of the great hospitals, the operations of 
Dupuytren, Lisfranc, and other lights of his profession, 
and the engrossing work to which Louis urged him on 
with daily increasing attraction, were added the numerous 
minor and yet important teachings of the various spe- 
cialists, such as the excellent clinical lectures of Rostan 
and Chomel, delivered at the bedside of the patient, the 
various courses of Andral, 1 Marjolin, Richerand, and oth- 
ers. In the spring he followed Blainville on Comparative 
Anatomy, Audouin on Articulate Animals, and gave 
much time to Ricord at the Hopital des Veneriens. He 
also attended with lively interest for many weeks a series 
of operations, experiments on the arteries, by Amussat, 
on horses, dogs, and other animals. These may have 
been " highly valuable," as he terms them, to the cause 
of science, but they were certainly painful and extremely 
cruel. Most people will not be sorry to learn that "on 
the last day of the course, and just at the commencement 

1 Paris, Nov. 1, 1832. — " The glory of the week has been Andral's introductory 
lecture on diseases of the brain. It was the most eloquent I ever heard, one 
speech of Mr. Webster's and a sermon or two of Dr. Channing's excepted. I 
could scarcely restrain myself, it was so grand and beautiful. What powers of 
mind and vastness of comprehension has this man ! " — Letter from Dr. James 
Jackson, Jr. 



VIVISECTION. 139 

of a new one, the police entered and put a stop to further 
proceedings for the present, some fastidious persons in the 
vicinity having complained of the experiments, either as 
a nuisance or on account of their brutalitv ; " to which 
Dr. Warren adds, in their defence, " the experiments are 
doubtless cruel, but not more so than those daily per- 
formed in public by Magendie, while they are even more 
important thr.n these." In view of such unending labors, 
one will not be surprised at the fact that he found his 
hours fully occupied. March 14, 1833, he writes : — 

"In one of my letters I announced my intention of trans- 
lating Dupuytren's Clinique. This I began, but soon saw that 
it would occupy too much time that might be better employed. 
To get on with it at any satisfactory rate, and to finish it with 
even moderate rapidity, would require at least four hours per 
day." 

In addition to his professional pursuits there were nu- 
merous other demands upon Dr. Warren at this time, 
which could not be ignored. These were in the shape 
of commissions from friends and relatives at home, which, 
though often apparently trivial, yet represented much time 
and labor as a whole. His spirit of genial good-nature 
never allowed him to refuse even the most frivolous ot 
these requests ; and since the greater number proceeded 
from his father, there was still less desire to overlook 
them, and a still more earnest wish to carry them into 
perfect execution. As a curious illustration of the variety 
of these orders from Dr. John C. Warren, and. as sugges- 
tive of the trouble it must have cost to fulfil them, one 
of his letters to his son is here given. It is dated Jan. 2, 
1834 ; and the contents will also serve to show the multi- 
plied pursuits and interests of the writer. 

My dear Mason, — Dr. Brown wishes you to get a skel- 
eton for him. I wish a preparation of the bones of the ear, 
like Edward's. A morbid preparation of bones of the hip-joint, 



140 JONATHAN" MASON WARREN. 

affected by the hip disease, would be useful to me. I wish a 
wet preparation of encysted tumor, to show the cyst. Recol- 
lect Vine's bills and the vendue of Madame Boivin. Her works 
are of the first utility. Mr. Welles would, I dare say, give you 
a note to her. My best regards to him. Recollect the artificial 
eyes, and inform yourself fully as to the mode of fixing them. 
Mr. Sam. Hubbard depends on your doing it for his daughter. 
Make a memorandum to buy some cucumber ointment and other 
real French ointments. Also almond soap, a dozen cakes ; they 
charge seventy-five cents here. The French are famous for 
these matters. I have also derived much advantage from the 
English almond paste for washing. I wish a small pocket-case, 
about the size of that you bought in Canada, and let it include 
a pair of pointed forceps or tenettes, — a small instrument to 
seize a tumor. A new skeleton is much needed at the college. 
When you go to London recollect to procure me a dozen glass 
preparation bottles of an oval shape, about four to six inches 
high, two or three across, and three to six long. Pick up all the 
improvements you can, and note them in writing. I am having 
made a cab, and wish you would notice the way of fastening 
the boot down, or bring the fastening itself. I wish to procure 
a handsome present for Dr. Flagg. What he would prefer 
would be plates of the diseases of teeth. Look out carefully 
for something of this kind. If not to be found, get Frederic 
Cuvier's book on the comparative anatomy of the teeth. If you 
can purchase them in France without clanger of their being 
seized, I should be glad to have one or two dozen of the largest 
and best linen towels. I have bought two or three kinds of 
hygrometers ; if you find any one in England which is well 
thought of, I would have it. I wrote to you a good while since 
for a compound microscope, and I mentioned the name of the 
inventor. There are three kinds. De Luc's was one, but not 
the best. I would mention the importance of getting a knowl- 
edge of preparation making, especially of those beautiful white 
bones in France. In London get Deville the cast of a Calmuck 
skull. My collection of skulls is now considerable and val- 
uable. The cast of the Caucasian head you sent before is cer- 
tainly not that of the fine Georgian head of Blumenbach. It is 
not so fine as some I have. I should like this cast, — namely, the 
female head extolled by Blumenbach; and if there is any better 



PATERXAL COMMISSIONS. 141 

male cast, that also. They should be very carefully packed. I 
wish for some engravings of heads to show the varieties of the 
human face, — for example, a Chinese face, a Hindoo, etc. ; just 
see if you can find any. I mentioned in one of my letters that 
I had a spare ourang-outang, two feet long, the skin on. My 
idea was to give it to Sir Astley, if he had none. It cost me 
one hundred dollars in Africa. When you are in England I 
wish you to get half a dozen bone chisels and a small ivory mal- 
let. Don't forget Heine's saw ; also a black coat and trousers 
from Richard Lane & Co., tailors, Sackville Court. Please also 
order the Life of Mrs. Hannah More, Legh Richmond's Annals 
of the Poor, Percivall's Hippopathology, and Bushman on Rhino- 
plastic Operations. Just make a memorandum of all these and 
other matters on a separate sheet of paper, so that nothing may 
be omitted or overlooked. Remember to ask Sir Astley for that 
preparation of Thymus, as it would be a great thing for me to 
introduce in my lectures. Is there anything I could send which 
would be acceptable to him ? Best almond soap is at Atkins's, 
London. Keep your hand in manual exercise. Do not forget 
your Latin and Greek ; above all, do not forget Him who is the 
Author of all the blessings we enjoy. 

I remain, your affectionate father, 

J. C. Warren. 

The following quotations from letters written by Dr. 
Warren during the first few months of his residence 
in Paris will enable the reader to see how quick he was 
to look after his father's interests, and at what an expen- 
diture of time and vigilance. The purchases and collec- 
tions to which reference is therein made w T ere mostly the 
result of former orders, and are not connected with those 
mentioned in the preceding letter, which was of a later 
date, and filled w T ith additional commissions. Under date 
of September 29, when he had been barely a week in the 
French capital, he writes : — 

" I have been with Dr. Charles Jackson to several surgical- 
instrument makers. There is nothing I see especially worthy 
of sending home. He will show you a straight forceps for 



142 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

extracting polypi from the nose, which I should think a great 
improvement on the old. If you approve of it, be kind enough 
to let me know, and I will send it out. 

"I have not yet been able to get the skull you desired. I 
fear it will be attended with some difficulty. I met with a 
pretty good specimen of the Caucasian head the other day, but 
imperfect. I have seen Mr. Niles, and he advised me to buy Vel- 
peau's Surgery and forward it to you ; but on inquiring afterwards 
at Balliere's Librairie I found it had been sent. The minerals 
for Mr. Theodore Lyman have been purchased and sent home." 

October 26. 
I bought yesterday a dissected skull, prepared to show the 
internal ear, and the different sinuses of the head. If there is 
any particular preparation of the skull you would like, I can 
have it made without difficulty. I have obtained for you 
Manec's work on Ligatures of the Arteries. This morning I 
secured for you a number of morbid bones, specimens of frac- 
tures, two or three distorted spines, caries, syphilitic bones, etc., 
for about fifty dollars, or two hundred and forty francs. I shall 
try to make additions before I send them. It is hard to find 
good examples, and they are dear. I picked up for you yester- 
day a very good specimen of luxation of the second vertebra on 
the atlas, and subsequent ossification of the os occipital bone. 
I was obliged to pay high for it, — that is, for Paris, — about 
thirty francs. I shall despatch some other curious examples at 
the same time. Will you tell me to what extent I am to go in 
my purchases ? I have already laid out eighty dollars for bones. 

December 17. 

I send you a Roman Catholic prayer-book. There is a great 
variety of editions ; this is the most complete. I came across it 
after a long search on the quay. It is not entirely new, and cost 
but five francs ; the shop price would be about twenty. Of the 
" Confessions of Saint Augustine " I could discover only the 
same edition that you have, in very small print, and of course I 
did not buy it. One of the old men at the shops on the quays 
is now searching for a larger print. If you wish for any of the 
works of Cicero to complete your set, or any other curious 
ancient works, I can get them for you. 



PATERNAL COMMISSIONS. 143 

January 27, 1833. 

I send you, by a ship sailing direct to Boston, two boxes, — a 
large one, containing fifty or sixty morbid bones, some skulls, a 
skeleton for Edward, and also the bones of the head, separate. 
The skeleton I have had made expressly, and wish you would 
be so kind as to examine it, and see if any improvement could be 
made, as I intend having one for myself. I forward with these 
a philosophical apparatus for Dr. Hale, to whom I feel much 
indebted for his attentions during my course of studies with 
him. I have not yet been able to find Reissasen's plates on 
the lungs ; the only copy is in the library. I shall look out for 
them. Cloquet's plates I cannot yet discover, but did not pur- 
chase others, thinking you had no immediate call for them. I 
have bought for you also Dupuytren's Urethrotome, some in- 
struments for ligature of the polypus uteri, and a polypus for- 
ceps ; also some scissors for opening the intestines. All these are 
described in Velpeau's work, and the use of the Urethrotome in 
Dupuytren's. Should you like the two volumes in folio of the 
Transactions of the Royal Academy of Medicine ? There are 
papers of Roux and Dupuytren which appear to be valuable. 
Among the works I shall forward by Mr. Lyman is one by 
Cousin on Education, which I thought might prove interesting 
to you. 

I have been hunting up the cost of a cab, and the expense of 
transporting it to America, and have come to the conclusion 
that although I might easily get one light enough for your pur- 
pose, or at least find a horse in Boston large enough to draw it, 
it would be too cumbersome for a physician's use. Mr. Lyman 
will be able to give you an account of the whole affair, as we 
went together to examine them. 

A few weeks later, Dr. Warren writes : — 

w As to the cab, I have almost made up my mind to ignore 
all objections, and despatch one forthwith ; but, on the whole, 
think I will make further inquiries, and talk the matter over 
with Dr. Bigelow on his return here." 

These calls continued without cessation so long as Dr. 
Warren remained abroad ; and the examples that have 
been given might be increased ad infinitum, though these 



144 JONATHAN MASON" WARREN. 

will surely suffice to excite the reader's wonder that, with 
all the other claims upon him, he was able to find any 
time for the more serious objects of his foreign life. But 
there were, in fact, numerous other matters requiring his 
attention, which were also alien in a great degree to his 
proper pursuits, and must have interfered sadly with his 
intended studies, had he not been endowed with some 
strange, persistent industry and ingenuity of manage- 
ment, which would seem to have enabled him to make 
two hours out of one. His social position at home, and 
his wide-spread and ever-growing circle of prosperous 
friends and relatives, were the source of continued de- 
mands upon his hospitable sympathies ; and these he was 
ever ready to display, whether the claim were more or 
less urgent and imperative. It was now his sister, now 
one of his brothers, or again some cousin or professional 
friend, who happened to take Paris in the course of their 
travels and were only too delighted to receive the atten- 
tions he was ready to bestow. His journal is liberally 
strewed with their names. At times they were on their 
way home from the south ; at times they had just arrived 
from Boston, en route for the more genial climate of Italy, 
and generally brought Dr. Warren most acceptable news 
from his family, especially from his mother and sisters. 
Mr. J. Gove, who had been four years in Italy, called 
upon him, and was taken to dine at the Palais Koyal. 

" December 31. — Mr. Cleveland came, and said he had seen 
Susan and Mr. Lyman in Rome in November, and had also met 

Sullivan at Marseilles." 

At intervals appeared Mr. and Mrs. T. H. Perkins, Mr. 
Horace Gray, from Italy, and Charles Hammond, from 
Calcutta. 

" October 21. — Met in the street Mr. and Mrs. Cairnes, who 
formerly lived in Boston, in Mr. Sears's old house. Called on 
Mr. and Mrs. Peabody, of Salem, and Dr. Peirson." 






FAMILIAR FACES. 145 

A familiar stream of Boston names runs through his 
pages : — 

"May 7, 1833. — Mr. and Mrs. Whitwell, and Mr. Young, 
have just arrived, with news from home." 

" March 13, 1834. — Mr. Phillips has arrived in Paris. He 
waited two hours with the concierge of my hotel, determined 
to see me. There is no friend from Boston that I have enjoyed 
so much pleasure in seeing, for a long time, not only on account 
of the personal esteem I have for him, but from the interest 
he has invariably expressed for me." 

" May 4. — I dined with Mr. and Mrs. Sam. Cabot, Falernian ;" 

the last word suggesting not only the country they had 
lately left, but other charming associations in profusion.. 

" Dr. and Mrs. Bigelow have arrived, travelling post. All well 
at home. Mrs. B. saw my mother only the day before she left." 

" May 6. — I met Dr. Bigelow x dining in the Palais Royal, and 
afterwards turned him into a puppet show, as he desired to have 
something to amuse him. He seems ready to enjoy everything, 
and has the untiring spirit of a true traveller." 

And thus it went on to the end, and hardly a day 
passed that he did not meet some well-known face or 

1 The last few lines of Dr. Jacob Bigelow's unfinished autobiography are devoted 
to an account of his voyage at this time, which must have been highly satisfactory 
to the passengers. The freight was certainly a valuable one, and well represented 
the dignity, culture, and talent of Boston. In view of subsequent events, one 
shudders to think of the possible loss to our city if the " Philadelphia " had met 
with any serious disaster. To Dr. Warren the sudden advent of all these familiar 
faces must have been like the rise of a "happy constellation." 

" April 1, 1833, I embarked for Europe in a sailing ship from New York for Lon- 
don. I was accompanied by my wife, and an agreeable party of Bostonians, among 
whom were Messrs. Thomas B. Curtis and wife, Sam. Whitwell and wife, Mrs. K. 
Boott and daughter, Dr. O. W. Holmes, Dr. Robert W. Hooper, Mr. Thomas G. 
Appleton, Rev. Alexander Young, Mr. Edward Blanchard, Mr. George Barnard, 
and as many more from New York and elsewhere. The tedium of a thirty days' 
sailing voyage was relieved by the wit and unceasing good-humor of the party, 
most of whom were not so disabled by sickness as to be incapable of participating 
in the expedients resorted to to abbreviate the ennui attendant on calms and head 
winds. Arrived at Portsmouth, we proceeded directly to London, mostly by stage- 
coaches. Here we stopped a few days to engage a courier and make preparations 
for a short continental tour. At Paris we delayed only ten days, being anxious to 
reach Italy before the arrival of warm weather. We left Paris, May — , accompanied 
by one courier only." — Memoir of Jacob Bigelow, M.D., by George E. Ellis, D.D. 

10 



146 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

hear some well-known name that had been connected 
with his life from childhood. 1 

Dr. Warren had many letters of introduction from his 
own and his father's friends at home, and not a few also 
from other friends he had made in England; and as he 
desired to neglect no means of improvement, in whatever 
direction it might tend, he made it a point to present 
these letters, and to perform conscientiously the duties 
which etiquette required of him. To such professional 
social duties many evenings were devoted ; and by these 
his position was much improved, and he gained obvious 
advantages of divers sorts. From his notes one learns 
that he attended the new-year's levee of Eoux, to whom 
he was presented by his son-in-law, Dagnan. He found 
Eoux to be — 

" a man of about fifty-eight years of age, with a most pleas- 
ant and prepossessing face, though one of his eyes is turned a 
little out of its axis. The scene was a novel one to me, as an 
aspect of French society. In one room were a number of old 
men, some playing cards, some billiards, while farther on was a 
knot of ladies with their sewing. I had a long talk with Roux 
on amputations, on the entrance of air into the veins, and other 
similar subjects. He said he had lately had a case of a young 
woman, on whom he operated for a tumor of the neck. A vein 
was opened, with a hissing sound, and the patient fell back, the 
pulsations of the heart apparently ceasing. After a while, how- 
ever, she was brought to, and the operation continued. She 
lived a few days, but finally died from improper food given by 
her nurse." 



1 The entertainment that Dr. Warren was able to offer His friends in Paris was 
often peculiar, and was not likely to fail on the score of novelty. With his pro- 
fessional enthusiasm, it was perhaps quite natural that he could think hardly any- 
thing more absorbingly attractive than the nimble legerdemain of the great 
French surgeons, and the dashing aplomb with which they hovered round a vital 
part and yet avoided it by a hair's-breadth. Such entries as these are not infre- 
quent : " Yesterday I took Mr. Lyman to see Civiale operate. He fortunately hap- 
pened to have a patient ready, but the stone was very small. After this I went 
with him to Hotel Dieu, where we saw Breschet amputate a leg above the knee for 
cancer." 



MR. SAMUEL WELLES. 147 

Shortly after his reception at Roux's we read of a sim- 
ilar experience at Breschet's. In fact, no door seems to 
have been closed to him, social or professional, and he thus 
made many new and profitable acquaintances. From Mon- 
sieur BatTos, " a student of Dubois at the same time with 
my father," he received numerous courtesies, and also 
from Mr. Niles, who was in the habit of entertaining on 
a large and splendid scale. Here, on the evening of 
Jan. 16, 1833, he met Mrs. Patterson Bonaparte, then in 
the prime of her beauty, wit, and ambition. 

"Feb. 22, 1833. — Grand ball at Mrs. Welles's, 1 one of the 
most brilliant I ever attended, and with the greatest display of 

1 Mr. Samuel Welles was at this time the only prominent American banker in 
Paris, where he had lived since 1815. He was universally esteemed and trusted ; 
and his honorable enterprise and integrity had gradually resulted in wealth which 
enabled him to indulge without stint in that benevolence for which thousands had 
come to be his debtors. Much more was expected of a foreign banker in those 
days than now ; and the attentions so freely claimed by his friends and patrons he 
as freely bestowed, with the cordial fulness of a kindly nature. His popularity 
was great ; and so widely extended were his connections and influence that few of 
his countrymen, when abroad, failed to find their way to his rooms, while he had 
entertained in his own home nearly every travelled American of note. Numbers 
yet live to recall with a certain vividness the genial and sumptuous hospitality 
which he was wont to dispense at his mansion on the Place St. Georges or at his 
chateau at Suresne near Paris, — a service in which he was ably seconded by 
his wife (once Miss Adeline Fowle, as above mentioned), a hostess of peculiar 
beauty and grace, tact, culture, and refinement. Under their roof Dr. Warren 
felt himself more at his ease than most of the other guests, being in a measure 
among his own relations. Long before this time the Welles and Warren families 
had been brought closely together by the marriage, in 1790, of General Arnold 
Welles, first cousin of the banker, and Elizabeth, eldest daughter of General 
Joseph Warren, — the first of a series of alliances which, in the lapse of some gen- 
erations, were to bring the Warrens into a union, more or less intimate, with many 
of the oldest and most respected families of their native city. 

A century ago, and more, owing to their wealth and official dignity, the social 
standing of the Welleses was of the highest, and none outranked them. In their 
prime they represented the local nobility of Boston. The name of Samuel Welles, 
father of the banker, who graduated at Harvard in 1744, was placed at the head of 
his class in the college catalogue; and the same was true of his brother Arnold, an 
alumnus of the succeeding year, thus exemplifying the rules of social gradation in 
vogue till 1773 at Harvard, the government of which was then, to use the words 
of Judge Wingate, "a complete aristocracy." This was at a period when many 
other families of the Pilgrim metropolis, now thought old and " blue," had not 
begun to emerge from obscurity. 

Mr. Welles, the banker, died on the 30th of August, 1841, at Suresne; and about 



148 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

beauty. As we approached the house, a long line of carriages 
blocked the way. Before the house a large fountain was play- 
ing, lighted by hundreds of colored lamps. The interior was 
finely arranged. There were four large salons on the lower 
floor, one of which was employed for a reception-room, and the 
others for dancing. The walls were covered with a species of 
white crepe, with a beautiful border at top and bottom. The 
curtains of one room were formed of the American flag, which 
offered a splendid contrast to the lining of the walls. In the 
centre of the house was stationed a fine band of music. Among 
the guests were Lafa} T ette and his family, with many other emi- 
nent persons. Here I met Mr. and Mrs. P. Perkins, of whose 
presence in town this was my first information. Here also were 
Mr. and Mrs. Clarke, the latter looking especially handsome and 
interesting, Cooper the novelist, and many others. Above stairs 
one saw the chambers, boudoir, and other rooms equally fine. 
The ball ended with a handsome supper." 

a year thereafter his widow, having been left with an income of twenty -five thou- 
sand pounds, married the Marquis de Lavalette, son of M. Jean L. A. Delavalette, 
who had assumed that title and was then regarded as a talented and rising diplo- 
mate. His subsequent career was destined to realize the mutual hopes and aspi- 
rations of himself and his partner ; for he lived to achieve some of the loftiest 
positions at foreign courts in the gift of Napoleon, finally becoming minister of 
foreign affairs, and, at the last, ambassador to Queen Victoria, when the empire 
sank in blood and ruin at Sedan, though this humiliation was spared to his wife, 
through her death, March 21, 1869, at the ripe age of seventy. After this the Mar- 
quis lived in retirement till the 4th of May, 1881, when he died, aged seventy-five, 
leaving a widow, the youngest daughter of the Comte de Flahault and the Baroness 
qf Keith and Nairne, whom he had married en secondes noces Feb. 2, 1871, — the 
day of the surrender of Paris to the Germans. 

Samuel Welles, the son and only child of the banker, was born in Boston, March 
22, 1834, during a visit of his mother to this city. On coming of age he took the 
title of Count Welles de Lavalette, finally conferred upon him in 1863, and thus 
regained his rank as one of " the local nobility," which had, as it were, been in 
abeyance since his father's departure for Europe. In 1857 he was a deputy to the 
Corps Legislatif from the Dordogne, and in 1863 obtained letters of naturalization 
as a French citizen. Aug. 11, 1863, he espoused Mile. Marie Sophie Leonie, the 
daughter of Kouher, the famous premier of Napoleon III. On the 14th of Novem- 
ber, 1864, his step-father, having six years before made an effort which was decided 
to be entach.ee de nullite, secured a decree from the imperial court, which authorized 
him to carry out his already declared intention of adopting the Count, and confirmed 
the latter as his son and heir, — a decision of much importance under certain aspects, 
as it settled a question, till then doubtful, as to the right of a French citizen to adopt 
a person of foreign birth. As the issue of all these transmutations, it may be safely 
inferred that the Count is definitely lost to Boston, and that the thin and acrid ichor 
of two centuries of Puritanism has been thoroughly evolved from his system. 



CHAPTER IX. 

LAFAYETTE. — RAJAH KAMMOHUN ROT. — THE CARNIVAL 

OF 1833 AND OTHER DIVERSIONS. — CORRESPONDENCE. 

PROFESSIONAL PURSUITS. JOURNEY TO SWITZERLAND 

AND ITALY. 

Among all the notable men to whom Dr. Warren had 
letters, there was no one whom he had a more natural 
desire and curiosity to see than Lafayette. As he had 
been provided with a complimentary introduction by 
Daniel Webster, who described him as the nephew of 
General Warren of Bunker Hill, he was sure of a cordial 
reception. His journal of Dec. 9, 1832, records his visit 
as follows : — 

" Having yesterday delivered my letter to Lafayette, I re- 
ceived a note from him saying that he would be at home this 
morning between ten and eleven and would be happy to have 
me call. Accordingly Morse and I waited upon him at the latter 
hour. In the anteroom we were asked by a servant for the 
note the General had sent us, but unfortunately we had not 
taken it with us. However, he took our names, and showed us 
into a salon, where Lafayette soon appeared and welcomed us 
most kindly, asking for our respective fathers, whom he seemed 
to remember, and saying many agreeable things. We spent 
fifteen or twenty minutes very pleasantly. He expressed 
much interest in the progress of Bunker Hill Monument, and 
inquired if it was finished. He offered us tickets to the Cham- 
ber of Deputies, and invited us to visit him in the summer at 
Lagrange, his country-seat. The General appeared in good 
health, and but little changed since he was in Boston, though 
he was much disheartened by the present aspect of political 
events. He retained a wonderful recollection of everything 



150 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

that occurred to him during his journey in our country. The 
numbers calling upon him are so great that he finds it absolutely 
necessary to put some restriction upon their approaches, and 
certain forms or credentials are required of every visitor before 
he consents to see him. In fact, he now receives as few visitors 
as possible, since he has arrived at an age when they are for the 
most part irksome, especially those who are impelled merely by 
curiosity ; but he is very liberal in his invitations to all to spend 
a few days with him at Lagrange." 

Hardly less interesting than Lafayette was another 
well-known character of that day, whom Dr. Warren met 
a few weeks after his arrival in Paris. This was Rajah 
Rammohun Roy, a Brahmin, who had abandoned the 
faith of his fathers for Christianity and adopted the Uni- 
tarian belief. He was then residing in England, where 
his wonderful learning, high moral tone, and controversial 
energy had made him famous soon after his first appear- 
ance there. When Dr. Warren saw him he was accom- 
panied by the eminent English scholar and linguist, Dr. 
Bowring, and was attending service at a Unitarian chapel. 
Dr. Warren was particularly interested in him from the 
nature of the religious tenets he professed, which were 
then exciting so fierce a discussion in his own native 
place. He describes the Rajah as singularly handsome of 
face, tall and robust, and with most courtly manners. 
He had a swarthy complexion and features of a certain 
Egyptian cast. He wore a red robe closely girdled at 
the waist, while a blue silk handkerchief covered his 
breast. Over his shoulders he had a superb cashmere 
shawl, and on his head a blue turban, which he kept on 
during the service. 

" Seldom have I been more surprised than at sight of a man 
with a dark skin and regarded generally as an infidel, speaking 
the English language with beautiful purity and precision and 
displaying a familiar acquaintance with all literature, both 
ancient and modern. He was accompanied by Dr. Bowring, 



CONSERVATOIRE DE MUSIQUE. 151 

author of a little book called ' Matins and Vespers ' and of 
other religious works." 

A few other extracts from Dr. Warren's journals dur- 
ing the winter of 1832-33 are here given, as interesting 
reminiscences of his life at that time. 

" Dec. 15, 1832. — Having bought a ticket this morning for 
the great Conservatoire de Musique, I attended there at two 
o'clock, and heard some of the finest music of the kind that 
could possibly be selected. This day's concert was a selection 
of the music of the sixteenth century. The orchestra was com- 
posed of instruments hitherto unknown to me, except by tradi- 
tion, — the viol, an instrument in the shape of a piano, but with 
the tones of a harp, and numerous other ancient instruments. 
We had also five or six violins, ten guitars, harps, organs, etc. 
The singers were some of the first talent in Paris. After a 
short history of the music of the sixteenth century by the leader 
of the choir, the concert was opened by one of the most beautiful 
pieces of sacred music I have ever heard. The combination of 
voices was so harmonious that it was impossible to believe that 
the sounds were not produced by a single person. After the 
sacred music we had selections from the various Spanish, Italian, 
and French masters of the time, a concerto of ten guitars, and a 
fine execution on the violin by Baillot, — the best violin-player in 
Paris. Mile. Massy was among the first of the female singers." 

" December 25, Christmas. — Messrs. Greene, Jackson, and 
myself dined together to celebrate the day. Toasts to be 
remembered next Christmas, when we shall probably all be 
separated. Visited Dubois." 

" Jan. 1, 1833. — Paris on this day is remarkably gay. Every 
one seems to be in the street, offering or receiving the con- 
gratulations of his friends. The king holds a great levee for 
all the officers of State at the Tuilenes, and afterwards gives 
a grand dinner. Morse, Gove, Greene, and I dined at the 
Trois Freres, the popular restaurant, where we had two days 
before ordered a dish of frogs with other delicacies. Wc dined 
at six, our dinner beginning with soupe d la Turc ; afterwards 
came turbot; and finally the frogs were brought in, or rather 
their hind-legs, as this is the only part used. I suppose there 



152 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

must have been from two to three hundred of these creatures 
slain for the occasion, though we very soon contrived to dispose 
of them. They tasted much like tender chicken, and were 
really exquisite. A particular kind of frog only is employed 
for the table. It is said that the others are all poisonous, so 
that we had one chance out of eighty-one of coming to grief, 
which of course enhanced the pleasure of the banquet. In 
addition to this course we had truffles and Rochefort cheese, 
making altogether a unique feast." 

" Jan. 10, 1833. — Went the night before last to a German 
physician's, M. Sichel, 29 Rue de la Harpe. He has a nice 
little Scotch wife. I met also a number of Germans and a 
young Spanish girl who did not speak French much better than 
myself, so that we found ourselves companions in trouble and 
soon became very good friends. M. Sichel tells me that he 
is the only professed oculist in Paris, and has come here for 
the purpose of attending entirely to diseases of the eye, as that 
is not a separate branch here. In the course of time he hopes 
to establish a hospital for this specialty." 

" Jan. 23, 1833. — The husband of my washerwoman came 
into my room this morning, and I asked him some questions 
about his former life. He told me he was Scotch and had been 
Bonaparte's coachman, having attended him in that capacity 
on his famous Russian campaign. He said Napoleon always 
had his coach and six horses ready at hand for any emergency. 
This man was in the battle of Moscow, and took part in the 
sack of the city. He was also in the Kremlin when it took 
fire. He said of all the spoils that came to the troops he re- 
tained nothing but a fur robe lined with fox-skins, which he 
afterwards sold for six napoleons. His description of the 
attacks of the Cossacks was most exciting." 

" February 13. — Saw this evening the opera i Giuletta e 
Romeo.' The music was fine and the singing of Julia Grisi 
beautiful. After the opera at twelve o'clock attended one of 
the masked balls for which Paris is so famous during the days — 
or rather the nights — of the Carnival. They are held at most 
of the theatres, begin at midnight and last till six in the morn- 
ing. Most of the women are masked and in fancy dresses, the 
men having the choice of going masked or not. The one I 
attended was at the Opera Comique. The pit was covered 



THE CARNIVAL. 153 

over, so that with the stage it formed quite an extensive ball- 
room. The dancing began at one. The masks and fancy 
dresses were some of them extremely amusing. There were 
men in women's dresses and women in male costume. The 
attendance was rather promiscuous, but sufficiently entertaining. 
Got home at five o'clock." 

"February 17. — To-day the Carnival was at its height; and 
although it was Sunday, the passages near the Boulevards were 
filled with a motley crowd in every sort of fantastic garb. As 
I came out of a brilliant concert at the Conservatoire, I found 
it almost impossible to make my way. The sidewalks were 
entirely covered with promenaders, while the broad avenue was 
crowded with people in every disguise, mounted on coach, cab, 
or horseback. Glad to escape from the intolerable din, I was 
going to my rooms, when I met the Bceuf Gras in procession. 
The prize ox, the principal feature of this show, was led in 
parade by numbers of butchers on horseback and rigged out in 
the most ridiculous attire. The animal was richly caparisoned; 
and behind him came a large car containing Juno, Venus, 
Vesta, and Cupid. This was driven by Time, armed with a 
scythe, wings, and other features supposed to belong to him. 
Cupid was formerly placed on the back of the ox ; but one of 
his representatives having fallen from his perch and broken a 
leg, the custom ceased to be observed." 

"February 18. — Mardi Gras, the last and most famous day 
of all. The weather proved to be most delightful, and all Paris 
was in the streets. The garden of the Tuileries was almost 
entirely filled with women and children in the most beautiful 
dresses, while masks were abundant in the streets. As I passed 
slowly along the Rue de la Paix, stopping occasionally to look 
at some new form of fun and frolic, I left my pocket unguarded, 
and felt my handkerchief slowly creeping out just as a large 
car filled with heathen deities was passing. I turned quickly 
round ; but the fellow who had his hand in my pocket persisted 
in looking another way in spite of all I could do to catch his eye. 
He soon, however, mixed with the crowd and disappeared. 

u Determined to see the day out, a few of us went to the opera 
to see the first act of 'La Tentation ' by Halcvy, — Mile. Du- 
vernay as Miranda. The scenery of the infernal regions in this 
opera is most wonderful. Adolphe Nourrit, the first French 



154 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

opera-singer in Paris, sang, and Taglioni danced in the last 
piece. Leaving the opera at half-past eleven masked, we de- 
scended into the ball-room of the Idilia, which is frequented 
by most of the lower classes. Here was an uproarious scene of 
mirth and boisterous gayety ; and a number of the women, seeing 
that I was in a mask, urged me to partake of refreshments with 
them. After a short stay one of our party, who was a deacon 
in good standing at home, became frightened at the demoraliza- 
tion around him and proposed to go. We then went to the 
Theatre des Varietes, where the largest of all the balls was to 
take place. It was raining hard. The cafes were so crowded 
with figures in masks that it was impossible to enter. We found 
a great mass of people at the door of the theatre, struggling 
desperately for admission. Making a bold push into the midst 
of it, we were soon taken off our feet and swept along without 
power to resist. It was over half an hour before we got inside, 
and then sadly squeezed and deranged, both without and within. 
The building was arranged so as to form one large dancing-hall, 
as in the Opera Comique ; and a stairway led from the pit to the 
boxes, which were full of spectators in masks. The floor of the 
house presented the most extraordinary scene I had ever beheld : 
men and women in every possible variety of bizarre and fan- 
tastic disguise- — fisherwomen and broom-girls, men with brushes 
and men with syringes. The rush to the pit grew greater and 
greater, and the staircase soon became impassable ; while one 
or two fellows with noses two feet long amused themselves 
with pitching those at the top of it down heels over head. 
During the dancing the spectators were unable to move from 
the spots they occupied. Our friend the deacon, again startled 
by the improprieties which threatened to engulf him both now 
and hereafter, again proposed to leave. This was at one o'clock ; 
but two hours after we found him well flattened out, red as 
a loboter and very near his starting-point. He said he had 
mace repeated efforts to mount the staircase, but had been 
pushed violently back every time. On this we made a united 
attack, scaled the rampart, and carried him up with us. It was 
nearly as difficult to quit the building as it had been to enter it. 
We were obliged to pass under the arm of a sentinel, and were 
immediately received by a crowd who, not being able to get 
into the theatre, were indemnifying themselves by commenting 



BALLS. 155 

on those who had been more lucky than they had been. We 
reached home at five A. m." 

"February 20. — Another ball at the Opera, though less 
amusing than its predecessors, as the performers were all in 
black dominoes and belonged largely to the better classes and 
had come merely as spectators." 

" February 23. — Attended a large charity ball given by the 
Princess Adelaide, sister of the king. Went there at twelve, 
and was forced to dawdle along for an hour and a half before 
my carriage drew up in front of the large square before the 
hotel. I was first ushered into a large hall, where, for a fee of 
ten sous, I was able to deposit my cloak with the waiters. 
Thereupon I was left to make my way as I best could. The 
crowd was so immense as to veto all attempts to move while 
dancing was going on. The heat was really awful, and, as I 
entered, seemed to singe my very hair. There were three large 
salons on each side of the hall of entrance, fine, but nothing 
remarkably splendid about them ; the ladies as usual, none of 
them pretty, though of the best class socially. After stewing 
in this crowd for two hours I made my escape, determined to 
give a wide berth to such entertainments in future. This was 
the end of my first Carnival abroad." 

" May 19. — The grippe has made an attack on us during the 
past week, and a hundred thousand people were prostrated by 
it on a single day. It generally begins with a sore throat and 
pains in the body, as if the patient had been severely beaten. 
The former is the severer symptom. The attack seldom lasts 
longer than two or three days, when the patient is left in a very 
weak state. I have not yet suffered from it, though I have 
had a slight rheum. My health was never better than now, 
which doubtless is the result of my constant movement and 
occupation." 

Dr. Warren was the most faithful and conscientious of 
correspondents, and while in Europe never failed to write 
long and frequently to his family at home, especially to 
his father. To him he sent invariably once a week at 
least eight or ten pages well crammed with the results of 
his professional studies and observations, minutely and in- 
telligently described and of great value in those days, 



156 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

when every form of intercourse between Europe and 
America was so slight and uncertain. That he should 
have done this in the midst of his incessant labors and 
the numberless other demands upon his time, shows well 
his strong sense of duty, his affection for his father, and 
that interest which he ever felt in his own progress 
towards excellence. Though his letters are generally 
devoted to matters connected with his work, and are for 
the most part of no value to the ordinary reader, there 
are some which prove that he really felt a lively concern 
in many other subjects, social, political, scientific, what- 
ever they might be, to which from time to time his 
attention was drawn. Everywhere the reader is im- 
pressed with his feeling of accountability for the manner 
in which his time was spent, and with his eager desire 
that the advantages he was enjoying should be improved 
to the utmost. Everywhere one notices the outcome of 
that affection which never ceased to draw him towards 
his home and friends, and of that patriotic love for his 
country and pride in her institutions which not only were 
becoming to him as a citizen, but were particularly suited 
to the illustrious name he bore and to the great deeds 
which it recalled. 

The brave and spirited stand taken by President Jack- 
son, in 1832, in behalf of the Union and against the 
Nullification measures of the South excited a tempest of 
feeling which reached even to the opposite shores of the 
Atlantic. Writing to his father under date of March 20, 
1833, when the final action of South Carolina was not 
yet known in Europe and the United States seemed on 
the verge of civil war, Dr. Warren says : — 

" The affairs of America are now regarded here with the most 
intense interest, not only by the Americans themselves, but by 
France and England and the European powers generally. The 
English have taken particular pains to represent the situation 
of our country in the worst possible view. Our institutions 



POLITICAL ASPECTS. 157 

always seem to irritate them like a thorn, and our late dissen- 
sions have given them a pleasure which they find it difficult to 
conceal. ' We had thought,' said one of their journals the other 
day, 4 that a republic bounded on one side by a forest and on 
the other by the ocean might perhaps keep together, but now 
we are convinced, by the fair trial of it in the United States, that 
it is impossible.' We are in hopes that the next news from 
home will disappoint all these speculations. An American trav- 
elling abroad learns how to value his own excellent form of gov- 
ernment. The French at present appear to be fast verging 
upon the same state of things as before their last revolution. 
Louis Philippe has entirely disappointed the expectations of the 
Republican party. He is now trying every means to strengthen 
his position, and forty thousand picked troops are stationed in 
and around Paris. These are well paid, and are entirely at the 
disposal of the king and his ministers. The three prominent 
political parties are (1) the Juste Milieu, or government party, 
which is the strongest in point of numbers ; (2) the Carlist ; 
and (3) the Republican, which, although the least numerous, 
is the most devoted and ready to stand by its principles. To 
this belong all the lower classes and the most of the young men. 
Poor Lafayette has much changed since he was in America, and 
his usual gay manner has become sad and sober from the way in 
which he has been duped by the king. There is no doubt that 
if he had wished it he could have been the president of a new 
republic." 

The chief drawback to Dr. Warren's correspondence 
was his handwriting. The cunning that he displayed 
with the knife unhappily did not extend to the pen. 
The mere mechanism of writing was always irksome to 
him, and this was probably aggravated by the fact that 
his want of a college education prevented him from ever 
attaining any fluency of composition. His manuscript 
suggested at times the tracks of a crab across the sand ; 
and the gaps that yawned here and there demanded a 
vivid fancy and good powers of generalization, combined 
with a decided sense of interest in the writer, to fill them 
out intelligibly. To his father's weak eyes these epistles 



158 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

were peculiarly harassing ; and he often, in spite of his 
well-known energy and his real anxiety to make out the 
contents, gave himself up to despair as he hovered over 
the tangled intricacy, and none the less from their con- 
trast with his own clear and firm characters. Under date 
of Sept. 10, 1834, he writes to his son : — 

" Your last letter from Dublin I read with great pleasure, and it 
is almost the only one of your letters which I have been able to 
read through. The contents of many of them are, I very much 
regret to say, not to be deciphered by my eyes. Sometimes 
I have thought of employing a person to copy the whole in a 
handsome hand, but the exposure of a private correspondence 
has prevented me. Had your letters all been written in a hand 
like the last, they would have been a great source of pleasure 
as well as of valuable reference." 

Paris, Dec. 17, 1832. 

My dear Father, ■ — I received yesterday with great pleas- 
ure your letter of November 7, and was much gratified to read 
your account of the operations at the Hospital. You appear to 
be much better supplied with interesting cases than we are at 
the H6tel Dieu. I have seen Dupuytren operate but few times 
during the last two months, three of the most striking examples 
being for the stone. The latter patients were all children ; and 
two of them, when the wounds were nearly healed, were taken 
with vomiting, pain in the abdomen, etc. On being examined 
pieces of stone were found ; the incisions were reopened and the 
calculi extracted. This negligence in not searching the bladder 
for any possible fragments at the end of the operation I can only 
attribute to the vanity of Dupuytren, who likes to make a show 
and is commonly talking all the time. As soon as the stone is 
apparently taken out, which is ordinarily effected in about two 
minutes, he is apt to think the operation completed and send 
the patient away. 

Dupuytren's performances are always brilliant, and his diag- 
nosis sometimes wonderful. 1 As a lecturer he is unequalled. 

1 Despite the dazzling achievements of the French surgeons, those of our own 
country were by no means inferior, even at this period. The operations of Dr. 
Valentine Mott fully equalled in skill and daring those of Dupuytren and his con- 



SURGICAL PECULIARITIES. 159 

I rarely miss him on these occasions, though I am often tempted 
to do so in order to see Roux at La Charite, where the opera- 
tions are most numerous and beautifully done. I have not yet 
called on Dupuytren, as he can be of no advantage to me yet. 
When I know the language better I wish to ask him some ques- 
tions, and shall then make my way to him. He is not usually 
very gracious to those wno bring letters. I saw an Englishman 
present one at the hospital the other day, of which for some 
time no notice was taken. When he had finally taken th.3 trou- 
ble to read it, which he did very deliberately, Dupuytren looked 
at the bearer over his shoulder, said he was happy to see him, 
threw the letter down, and walked into the next hall. I shall 
attack him in his home, where there is no escape, though he 
will no doubt be very gracious to one recommended by Sir 
Astley Cooper, with whom he spent two or three weeks in 
England. 

I am told, though I know not how true it is, that out of thirty 
amputations at La Charite' but six have recovered. This is not 
the fault of the operations, which are done in a most masterly 
manner, but probably arises from the great suppuration caused 
by so many ligatures. They do not understand here what 
healthy inflammation is ; and as to the wounds healing by the 
first intention, they never think of it. I have not yet been able 
to attend Lisfranc, as I cannot wander from one hospital to 
another. I shall spend a month or two at his place in the sum- 
mer. He is boisterous, sometimes vulgar, but good-natured to 
the students and entirely unlike Dupuytren, who always looks 
like a bear, and if any one irritates him breaks out very fiercely. 
He speaks of the latter with little ceremony, using such epithets 

freres, audacious as these often were ; and when Sir Astley Cooper said, " Dr. Mott 
lias performed more of the great operations than any man living or that ever did 
live," he seems to have uttered the simple truth. Dr. Mott went the round of the 
Frencli hospitals during his visit to Paris in 1835 ; but he could have met with few of 
his profession from whom he could greatly benefit, while his own talents extorted 
the admiration of even the most jealous critics. 

Dr. John C. Warren was in Paris two years after Dr. Mott and then wrote : 
" Velpeau, and other surgeons as well, expressed surprise at the operations per- 
formed in this country; and after questioning me in regard to the authenticity of 
various accounts, he desired a written statement of those I had performed, certified 
by signature. Just before I left London I received a note from Mr. Guthrie, for- 
merly an army surgeon, now one of the most distinguished in London, in which he 
says, 'I know not how it is, but our surgeons do not seem inclined to undertake 
these formidable operations.' " 



160 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

as "le brigand de la Seine," "le voleur," and others equally 
polite when referring to him. On Thursday and Sunday, when 
we have no lecture from Dupuytren, I generally attend Rostan 
or Chomel, whose clinical lectures at the bedside are excellent. 
Sunday is the best day for the hospital, as the students then 
sleep till ten o'clock. 

In your last letter you mention the death of the much ad- 
mired Spurzheim. Just after its receipt I was buying for you a 
finely marked Caucasian head phrenologically mapped out, when 
I spoke of the sad event to the shopkeeper. At first he would 
not believe me ; but when I gave him the particulars he could 
scarcely keep from crying, and said " C'est une tres grande 
perte." The next day he came up to Bowditch with the sec- 
retary of the Phrenological Society in order to learn further 
details which Bowditch had received from his brother. 

On the 13th of April, 1833, Dr. Warren wrote to his 
father : — 

" Our courses of lectures for the winter at the School of 
Medicine have just terminated, and I have decided to go over 
to London for the summer and return to Paris to spend the 
next winter. I have come to this resolution only after very long 
and careful consideration of the course most profitable for me to 
pursue during the rest of my stay in Europe, and after taking 
the advice of most of my friends. I will try to give you my 
plans exactly, with the reasons that have led me to adopt them, 
and I hope they will meet with your approbation. On my first 
arrival here I found that if I was to study with any advantage, 
I ought to devote myself to one branch, either surgery or medi- 
cine, as it was impossible to follow both and at the same time 
accomplish the necessary reading. I thought it best to take up 
the former at first, and gave myself more especially to that, 
though I did not entirely neglect medicine, as I attended the 
lectures of Andral and others whom I have mentioned. 

" By going to London in the summer I do not think I shall 
lose much here. The principal thing is the lectures, though the 
study of disease at the bedside is a most important object ; and 
this can be better followed up in summer than in winter, as 
there are less students in the hospitals. The same remark 
applies to diseases of the eye, to which I shall give particular 



PROFESSIONAL PLANS. 161 

attention in England. My present design is to leave Paris in 
the middle of May, or as soon as I have ended the private 
courses with which I am now occupied, — that is, Amussat on 
Lithotrity and lesion of arteries, a course of operative surgery, 
and a third on bandaging. This will occupy all my time for 
five weeks to come. Paris offers much greater prospects for 
study than London, from the great number of public hospitals 
and lectures, and particularly for the private courses, which in 
certain branches are very valuable. Their practice of medicine 
and surgery I think little of. It seems to be more an object to 
study the natural history of disease and to perform an operation 
beautifully and quickly, than to save the life of a patient. On 
this account I think every student should see the English prac- 
tice after his studies in Paris, as one is apt to fall into the 
French method from simple ignorance of any other." 

Notwithstanding Dr. Warren's mature consideration 
and final adoption of the plan set forth in the above let- 
ter, further thought at length induced him to change it 
materially, the reasons wherefor he gives as follows : — 

Mat 19, 1833. 

On my first arrival here I determined to spend a year in 
Paris, five months in London, and then, with your permis- 
sion, to pass the last summer before my return home in a 
tour through Italy and Switzerland. I have adhered to this 
plan till now, with the exception of allotting my five months 
in England to the summer instead of the winter, that I might 
follow Louis and enjoy the advantages which Paris offers 
during the winter. Having thus decided, I was just on the 
point of leaving here for England, when all the various courses 
of natural history, comparative anatomy, geology, etc., were 
announced and set me to thinking in what way I could attend 
these important branches of my education here. The only 
means I could find were to give up the idea of spending the 
next summer in Italy and transfer it to England. I shall there- 
fore pass the summer in Paris until the September vacation, and 
then, with your permission, go to Switzerland. If I have time 
during the two months that will intervene before the winter 
courses begin, I propose to go into the north of Italy, return to 
Paris by the first week in November, and there remain through 

11 



162 JONATHAN MASON WAEKEN. 

the winter, going over to England in the spring sufficiently early 
to hear Tyrrel's lectures, and there employing the five months 
previous to my going home to Boston. This is the best and 
most economical manner I can suggest for the disposal of my 
time, and I trust you will think as I do in regard to it. 

As Dr. Warren's father offered no objection to the 
above plan, but rather approved of it, his son made his 
arrangements accordingly. Having secured the signa- 
tures of some dozens of diplomats, great and small, to his 
passport, he left Paris on the 4th of August, 1833, for 
Geneva with four of his friends, — one of them Dr. Robert 
Hooper, of whom he saw much in Paris ; and another the 
son of Mr. William Lawrence from his own city. Two 
occupied the coupe of the diligence, and three the inte- 
rior. Even in this age of rapid and luxurious motion 
travel is not wholly void of discomforts, and fifty years 
since the vexations were many and wearisome. With 
Dr. Warren and his party these began at the outstart. 
He writes : — 

" Our journey from Paris to Geneva was one of the most tedi- 
ous that I ever experienced. We were obliged to ride night and 
day for three days and four nights, stopping only at irregular 
hours to eat and drink, dining sometimes at two, at others eleven 
at night. It is almost impossible to get any quiet sleep in a dili- 
gence, the motion being unpleasant, and the roads for most of 
the way being paved on account of the softness of the soil." 

From Geneva Dr. Warren and his party went to Cha- 
monix, thence to the Monastery of St. Bernard, to Berne, 
Interlaken, and many of the most attractive portions of 
Switzerland, until they had become well acquainted with 
the grandeur and beauty of its scenery. On the first 
day of September they crossed the Alps by the Spliigen 
Pass and proceeded to Milan, taking the Lake of Como 
on their way. 

11 After remaining a week in Milan waiting for our trunks, 
which had been despatched three weeks before from Berne, and 



CONTINENTAL TKAYELS. 163 

having had a continual rain for five or six days, we finally took 
^a vetturino for Venice, who was to be eight days on the road." 

Having slowly made his way to Venice through Ve- 
rona, Padua, and other places of interest, Dr. Warren 
spent a week there and then returned to Milan, from 
which he went by diligence to Parma, Bologne, and finally 
to Florence. After a stay of a week he continued his 
route to Siena, and thence to Rome, which he entered on 
the 5th of October, and took rooms at No. 66 Via di 
Ripetta. A fortnight later saw him on his road to Naples, 
from which after a short season he took a steamer for 
Marseilles. On the 31st of October he quitted this city 
for Paris by way of Lyons, and early in November found 
himself again hard at work in the schools and hospitals. 

Of the letters written by Dr. Warren during this tour 
but one, unfortunately, has been preserved. It announces 
his arrival in Rome, and will serve to show, at least, that 
he never omitted any chance for professional improvement. 

Home, Oct. 6, 1833. 

My dear Fathee, — After a very pleasant week spent at 
Florence, we left there on the last day of September, and arrived 
in Rome at the end of a five days' journey. During the short 
stay which I made in Florence I had time to see everything of 
consequence. I passed an hour or two each day in the galleries, 
though a month or two might be profitably occupied in studying 
the works of celebrated ancient artists here preserved. Among 
other interesting objects, there is the splendid collection of wax- 
work so often mentioned, which far surpassed my expectations. 
It consists of a great number of preparations of different parts 
of the human body, arranged in numerous galleries. It com- 
mences with the bones and muscles, a separate preparation 
being devoted to each muscle, after which come the arteries, 
veins, nerves, lymphatics, etc. The internal organs were very 
fine, particularly the heart, showing the valves. There were 
also a large number of illustrations in comparative anatomy, 
perfectly executed. 



164 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

The famous representation of the plague proved to be, not a 
portrayal of the various stages of the disease, as is generally 
supposed, but of its effects. It is contained in four mahogany 
boxes about four feet square. The first shows the city just 
after the pest, the bodies lying piled one upon another in con- 
fused heaps, men, women, and children, some just dead, others 
slightly tinged with green. In the second box the figures are 
on a smaller scale, and as they appeared some five or six months 
after death, when time had begun to tell upon them. Here one 
sees the effect of heat and exposure on the dead. One turned 
green is merely swollen, but not yet decayed. From others the 
heads or extremities have rotted off, while the gorged worms 
in alarming numbers, preying on the interior, are distinctly 
observed, and here and there a rat has made his way into a half- 
putrid body and is dragging out the entrails. The third box 
contains only a few remains, the skeletons stretched out and 
covered with mould, most exquisitely imitated. The whole col- 
lection surpasses anything of the kind that I have ever seen. 

Before leaving the museum I inquired for the workman at- 
tached to it, and with some difficulty was admitted to his studio. 
He proved to be the same man that did the figures for you some 
3 r ears since. He showed me several preparations of the eye 
now on hand. He and his father have been employed here for 
forty years. He gave me his address, and I inquired the means 
to be taken in case we should need any more preparations. 

From the delay of my trunk at Milan I have not yet met 
any of the medical men here, all my letters being thus rendered 
useless. At Florence I visited the great hospital, which con- 
tains six hundred beds. There is nothing remarkable about it, 
and nothing new among their instruments, which they allowed 
me to see. A young man at the hospital offered to introduce 
me to Andreini if I would come the next morning, but I was 
prevented by leaving the city. In Rome I shall be able to 
do more by means of the letters I have to one or two gentlemen 
here. 

I had hoped to see Mr. Isaac Grant in Florence, but he had 
gone to visit his brother in Leghorn, where I may perhaps see 
him, as we touch there in the steamboat from Naples to Mar- 
seilles. Mr. Sears and his boys I met in Florence. He seems 
to be in better health than when he left Paris. He met Mr. 



LETTER FROM ROME. 165 

Phillips and Tuckerruan somewhere on the Rhine on their way 
to Italy. 

I had the pleasure of receiving a number of letters just before 
I left Florence, announcing Sullivan's return home and yours 
from the White Mountains in good health. When I reach Paris 
I will have a drawing of the cab made with its dimensioDs, etc., 
so that if you decide to order one from England, it can be done 
under my own directions before my departure for home. 

I intend to pass ten or twelve days here and then leave 
for Naples, where we take the steamer for Marseilles on the 
28th. I shall be in Paris on the 5th of November in season for 
the lectures, which will begin on the 7th or 8th. My Italian 
journey, though rapid, has thus far been thorough; nothing 
which was to be seen and was worth seeing having been 
allowed to escape. I hope to enjoy it, however, much more in 
retrospect than at present, as the quickness of movement and 
the many discomforts of travelling necessarily make it some- 
what laborious, richly repaid, though, by the enjoyment of those 
fine works of art when they are reached. I shall write again 
to Mamma in a few days. My best love to her and to Sullivan, 
who I hope finds himself comfortably settled. 

With best wishes for your continued health, I remain, 
Your affectionate son, 

J. M. Warren. 



CHAPTER X. 

SECOND YEAR ABROAD. — SURGICAL STUDIES. — MINIA- 
TURE. — DRESS. BARRICADES. THE RHINE. HOL- 
LAND AND BELGIUM. LONDON. ATTENTIONS OF THE 

FACULTY AND OTHERS. OPERATIONS. HOSPITALS. 

Dr. Warren began his second year abroad with health 
strengthened by travel, with a mind enlarged by study 
and improved by experience, and with a devotion to his 
profession which daily increased as the magnitude of its 
demands and the vastness of its resources expanded before 
him. From a few of his letters here given one can per- 
ceive the nature of his life in Paris during the winter of 
1833-34, while the pursuits to which he chiefly directed 
his attention will be easily understood without much 
comment. 

Paris, Nov. 22, 1833. 

My dear Father, — I at length find myself settled down 
here and fully engaged in the attendance of hospitals and lec- 
tures and the studies connected with the different courses that 
I have undertaken. On my first arrival so many things which 
require to be done during the time left for my stay here crowded 
upon me that I was quite overwhelmed, and it was only by reso- 
lutely selecting the most important and giving myself up to 
them that I at last got under way. The advantages one enjoys 
in Paris are so great and so numerous, that however much one 
may wish to improve them, his intentions may be largely de- 
feated by trying to accomplish too many things at once. I 
have thus come to the conclusion that I must relinquish some 
most important branches for lack of time. 

On my arrival here I began at La Pitie' with Louis, whose 
method of examination I especially like. I shall devote myself 



SURGICAL STUDIES. 167 

to the stethoscope, and hope to acquire some knowledge of it 
in the course of the three or four months which I propose to 
bestow upon it. Strict and minute observation and a close 
study of pathological symptoms are the peculiar features of 
Louis's method. As to therapeutics, so far as I can judge, he 
is entirely a sceptic. 

The lectures I have chosen at the School of Medicine are 
those of Andral and Marjolin. The latter's on Surgical Pathol- 
ogy are wuthout exception the most thorough and the most 
practical of any I have yet heard. Marjolin is one of the first 
consulting surgeons of Paris, and has accumulated a vast store 
of facts valuable to the student. I will occasionally send you 
some of these when they prove particularly interesting. Those 
in regard to aneurism are excellent. I followed Richerancl on 
Surgical Apparel and Observation again this year, but only for 
a week, as he was so prolix, tiresome, and full of repetitions 
that I thought my hours better employed elsewhere and left 
him. He has been much overrated, and since his paralytic 
attack, which left him with an indistinct utterance and a vague 
expression of his ideas, he has become almost insufferable. I 
have determined to go over to St. Louis twice a week in order 
to study the various diseases of the skin, and two or three of us 
have begun a course there with a very intelligent interne from 
whom I derived much benefit last year. 

I get time now and then after Louis's visit to attend part of 
Lisfranc's lecture and see his operations, when there are any. 
This I shall continue till the former's clinique begins. I have 
lately been looking out at the Ecole Pratique for some of the 
young surgeons to give me a course of surgical operations. 
After dinner I have one on diseases of the eye with my friend 
Dr. Sichel and others on midwifery, both of which I shall at- 
tend during the winter. In this way I am pretty thoroughly 
occupied till eight or nine in the evening, and from then till 
twelve is all that remains for reading. I had hoped also to 
pursue the study of syphilis and diseases of the uterus, but for 
the present shall be obliged to relinquish them, though I shall 
try to attend to the former in England, but not so well as here, 
as they have no hospital in London for that disease. I expect 
to be here about five and a half months in all, and must be in 
England by the first of May. 



168 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Jan. 5, 1834. 

I am now most busily employed from early in the morn- 
ing, when my servant brings me my demi-tasse of coffee and 
lights my candle, — the only way I find in these dark winter 
days to wake up, — until twelve at night. I occasionally get 
over the other side of the river into society, but with somewhat 
of an effort, as it interferes with other and more important 
affairs. 

Will you kindly give my best love to Mamma ? As I find 
myself in another year, it seems as if I had passed the Rubicon 
and surmounted a great obstacle placed between me and my 
return to my friends. That it may be my good fortune on my 
return to meet you in good health is the earnest wish of your 
affectionate son. 

Jan. 25, 1834. 

I shall leave for London about the first of May ; and my pres- 
ent plan is to pass six or seven weeks there, then cross to Dublin 
and embark the 1st or 10th of August from Liverpool, in order 
to avoid the September gales, according to the advice you so 
kindly gave me in the little book of instructions before my 
departure from home. I should have liked to remain longer in 
London, as I expect much benefit from my studies there and 
from the letters you sent me. I feel every way better prepared 
to profit by them now than on my former visit. If I do prolong 
my stay there, I shall be obliged to defer my voyage home till 
October, though in this matter I shall be entirely guided by 
you. I suspect, however, that as the time approaches I shall 
begin to be anxious to sail, and quite unwilling to let any ob- 
stacle interfere with my departure. Already the tone of my 
late letters from home seems to suggest a certain gloom in the 
family, especially of those from Mamma, which indicate a relapse 
from her former spirits. These have excited in me a decided 
longing to be again in my native land, though I am still drawn 
in the opposite direction by the objects for which I came here 
and which should be accomplished before my return. 

In your letters you express a wish that I should leave here in 
August, though you allow me to remain later if I desire. I 
cannot help recording my deep sense of the kind, liberal, and 
unrestrained trust you have reposed in me both in regard to my 
expenses and my movements since I came abroad, so that I have 



MLSTATUKE. 169 

been able to employ my time to much greater advantage than I 
should otherwise have done. I hope you will not think I have 
wasted it ; I certainly have done the best I could with it, accord- 
ing to my judgment. 

I often think of the good I should obtain from another winter 
in Europe. The days slip by so fast that many studies are 
necessarily crowded together, but I am well aware that if I con- 
tinued here the time would be spent in great anxiety. If any- 
thing were i.o happen to the family, I should never be able to 
forgive myself for my protracted absence. To judge from my 
present feelings, I shall doubtless return this year. I am in- 
clined to think it will be difficult for me to finish what I wish 
to do before the first of October. This would make it late for 
me to take any active part in the dissecting-room next winter, 
though this I should really prefer to avoid, as I do not consider 
myself sufficiently prepared in anatomy to undertake a work 
which, once begun, should be thoroughly done. For the last 
two years I have hardly had a knife in my hands, except for 
surgical anatomy, and as yet I hardly feel equal to the require- 
ments of the dissecting-room. 

Everything would seem to indicate that at this period 
Dr. Warren's bodily health was particularly good, and 
quite as vigorous as that of his mind. Mrs. Warren has 
now in her possession a portrait of her husband, done on 
ivory, by Pierre D'augbigny, 1 in 1834, and designed as a 
present to his mother. This artist was then in the high- 
est repute, both for the accuracy of his likenesses and 
for their artistic merit and admirable finish. His abilities 
insured him a numerous clientele, chiefly from the rich, 

1 This is the form in which Pierre D'aubigny inscribed his name on the back of 
the miniature, where one may still read it. The use of the apostrophe is hard to 
understand, as it was not customary with his kinsmen. He belonged to a family 
of artistic temperament, and noted for taste and skill. His brother Ed me Francois 
Daubigny was an eminent landscape-painter, and father of the celebrated Charles 
Francois Daubigny, so widely known in our own day. The wife of Pierre, nee 
Ame'lie Dantel, was equally distinguished with himself as a miniaturist; and so 
was her sister, Mile. Henriette-Virginie Dantel. These were all highly esteemed 
in the French capital, and the numerous celebrities who sat to them bore witness 
to their popularity. In 1833 Pierre was awarded a gold medal for his exhibit at 
the salon ; and in the following year his wife was similarly honored. 



170 JONATHAN MASON WAKREN. 

of course, as in those days comparatively few could afford 
to spend five hundred francs for a work of that nature. 
He appears to have been very popular with Americans ; 
and several friends of Dr. Warren took advantage of this 
opportunity, and ordered their portraits for the benefit of 
their relatives at home, — an attention more significant and 
more appreciated when daguerreotypes had not been in- 
vented, nor any of the various other means, now so abun- 
dant, for representing the human face. The portrait in 
question is especially interesting, as the first ever taken 
of Dr, Warren, and as the pioneer of a long line of such 
works still in existence, which enable one to trace with 
accuracy the gradual change in his features and expres- 
sion, from youth to age. As they were invariably done 
by the best artists of their time, they are yet, for the 
most part, in excellent condition, and also offer a most 
suggestive record of the progress made in this depart- 
ment of science, from the fascinating masterpieces of the 
limners on ivory to the first faint dawnings of Daguerre, 
when all portraits by his process were taken with the 
eyes shut, and thence to the marvellous photographic 
achievements of our own day. Dr. Warren had a decided 
weakness for multiplying likenesses of himself, and this 
grew with advancing years, though he was void of selfish 
vanity in the matter, and rarely sat alone, but generally 
displayed his natural affection by requesting the company 
of his children or grandchild. 

All those who saw or knew Dr. Warren as he appeared 
when he sat to D'aubigny have invariably declared the 
artist's effort a successful one, true to nature in feature 
and expression, and with no attempt to flatter. It is 
pretty obvious from this that Dr. Warren's life in Paris 
agreed with him, that he was capable of much hard and 
long-continued labor, and that, even in spite of paternal 
advice and experience, his theory in regard to the use of 
wine may have been correct. At that time he must have 



DRESS. 171 

had a winning aspect, with fair complexion, full cheeks, 
bright eyes, and a look of genial intelligence and sym- 
pathy which goes far to explain his popularity with his 
associates. Every trace of dyspepsia, loss of mental tone, 
or other ailment had disappeared, with every other sug- 
gestion of a weak constitution. One detects nothing but 
florid health in every feature ; and the young physician 
stands before us in his habit as he lived, one of the ele- 
gants of the period, who would have been a credit to any 
age or nation. As to the dress, it is characteristic of 
those tastes which he displayed in this matter from his 
earliest youth, and which he never lost, even in face of 
the obstacles created by a profession which at times 
hardly admits of personal cleanliness. While in Paris, 
notwithstanding his engrossing and continuous occupa- 
tions, he still exhibited that fastidious neatness and refine- 
ment which he could not live without. He was, in truth, 
one who must have everything handsome about him ; and 
this had early become a sort of ruling passion, the gratifi- 
cation of which was essential to his happiness, one might 
almost say to his existence. As to his attire when 
en fete, he reminded one of the finished and ornate 
elegance of a Corinthian capital. His brother Sullivan 
was wont to call him the petit maitre. He was not slow 
to avail himself of the opportunities which Paris afforded 
for the adornment of his person, and he easily yielded 
to the temptations that beset him on every side. In 
the age of the Directory he would have been termed 
an incroyable, under the Empire an agreable ; and though 
he had no leisure to saunter along the Boulevards, and 
manifest his gracious presence to the world of fashion, 
none the less did he feel constrained to indulge a pre- 
dilection which had come unsought, and which he had 
really inherited from his father, who was always con- 
spicuous for a certain exceptional neatness and luxury 
of apparel. 



172 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

To Dr. Warren's elaborate make-up none but the best 
artists of Paris were allowed to contribute, and only such 
did produce those irreproachable coats and trousers, those 
exquisite shirts and waistcoats, which he wore. Euffled 
shirt-fronts were then in vogue, and Dr. Warren's were 
something to be remembered and rarely forgotten. Even 
Beau Brummel or Count d'Orsay would have gladly 
bestowed his approval upon this delicate expanse of the 
finest linen, whose sportive frivolity was fixed in per- 
manent expression by the daintiest prudery of starch. 
Over these elaborations the laundress sighed in despair as 
she sought to restore their first artistic features ; and she 
continued to sigh, even after her enormous bill had been 
paid. As for Dr. Warren's handkerchiefs, nothing could 
surpass the fineness of their tissue, or the intricate mys- 
tery of the embroidered initials that lurked in their cor- 
ners. Each monogram was a chef-d'oeuvre of the needle, 
and would have lent a further grace to an illuminated 
missal, at least so far as its form was concerned. Dr. 
Warren liked to own these without stint, and to use them 
in the same measure. A fresh triumph of embroidery 
every day was the very slightest limit he cared to put 
upon his enjoyment of such a trifling adjunct to his per- 
sonal appearance. His waistcoats, at that period a promi- 
nent feature in the dress of every exquisite, were each a 
separate triumph, of varied color and design, richly embroi- 
dered at times and radiant with a certain florid gorgeous- 
ness. D'aubigny's portrait, unfortunately, fails to do full 
justice to the various constituents of Dr. Warren's dress 
in those Parisian days. For purposes of portraiture, the 
artist would seem to have regarded the coat as the only 
essential element besides the features, and to this he sac- 
rificed every other attribute of his sitter. As it was very 
high in the neck, close-buttoned in front, and provided 
with long sleeves, neither shirt-front nor wrist-bands are 
visible ; and the same is true of the linen collar, which is 



BARRICADES. 173 

nearly swallowed up by the voluminous coils of the huge 
stock of the period, which by its height and stiffness, and 
the attitude of constraint it imposes on the wearer, con- 
firms the reputed origin of its name. In that age of 
feather-bed neck-cloths and pillowy capes, man was more 
obviously " a cloth-animal " than now, and painters were 
no wise loath to make the most of this characteristic. To 
this treatment neither did Dr. Warren object ; and as he 
was not a large man, he was then, and to the end of his 
days, quite willing to gain such size and dignity as he 
could by enlarging his drapery. Thus he always favored 
the stock, cumbrous as it seemed, and generally had his 
coats made much too large for his body, being conscious 
of the effect of quantity as well as quality of raiment 
when worn by a gentleman, and sensible of a manly 
bearing that was fully able to support it with due and 
appropriate effect. Jewelry, even in his youth, he never 
favored. He thought it altogether superfluous in one of 
his position and acquirements, and in a gentleman far too 
suggestive of an attempt to excite a baseless admiration. 

In the spring of 1834 occurred one of those frequent 
outbreaks peculiar to the French nation, and mostly tak- 
ing place in Paris. For the moment the wildest excite- 
ment prevailed ; and although soon quelled, it proved to 
be a very neat and characteristic example of an insurrec- 
tion, which Dr. Warren, from professional no less than 
other reasons, was very glad to see. 

Paris, April 15, 1834. 

My dear Father, — As had been supposed from the state 
of affairs at Lyons and consequent reaction on the republican 
party at Paris, so the result has proved. On Sunday, the 13th, 
towards evening some barricades were thrown up in the Rue 
St. Martin, and the fighting commenced. The rappel immedi- 
ately beat to arms, and the National Guards assembled from all 
sides. 



174 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

I was down on the Boulevards at about ten in the evening. 
The whole population seemed turned out into the streets. A 
long line of troops extended down the side of the Boulevards ; 
and as we walked along an immense heavy mass of the National 
Guard debouched from one of the side streets, marching solemnly 
along without music, and seeming intent on the hard work pre- 
pared for them. Officers were galloping about giving their 
orders on all sides, and trains of artillery were stationed in the 
different squares with their matches lighted. The movement of 
carriages was cut off from one part of the city to another, and 
every precaution taken to prevent assistance being carried to 
the disturbers. Near by, in the Place St. Michel, a barricade 
was formed, but was soon carried by the National Guards and 
troops of the line. In the other quarters of the city the troops 
contented themselves with blockading the streets barricaded, 
reserving the attack till daylight. At about six on Monday 
morning — yesterday — the barricades were attacked and car- 
ried at almost every quarter, and many of the houses containing 
combatants entered and all within killed. 

I went down to H6tel Dieu in the morning, where many of 
the wounded were brought, and had an opportunity of seeing 
some singular wounds produced by balls, etc. One poor fellow 
had received the fire of a whole battalion, and had, as he said, 
been attrape by about ten balls. One had passed through the 
shoulder joint, a second had carried away one or two fingers, 
another passed through the muscles of the abdomen, etc. A 
Municipal had received a ball in the abdomen. No traces of it 
were to be found. He seemed to suffer little, and the other 
symptoms good. A woman had received a ball while in a sit- 
ting position, which, after having raked the whole leg, passed 
into the abdomen and out behind, carrying away a portion of 
the os ilium. One man had a good part of the deltoid muscle 
carried away, leaving the capsular ligament exposed. 

Many of the dead were disposed in the Morgue, some of them 
horribly slashed up. 

It is difficult to conceive of a day more exciting than yester- 
day, being one of the most delightful of the seaso;i ; and from 
the great commotion the streets were filled with the curious, 
and work seemed in a great measure suspended. As I walked 
down towards the quays, long trains of artillery wagons with 



M. COUSIN. 175 

ammunition were coming from the environs. Here and there a 
file of soldiers conducted on a barrow some of the wounded sent 
to the hospital. The scene at the Tuileries was very magnifi- 
cent. All along the Rue Rivoli and in front of the Chateau 
were ranged the splendid body of cuirassiers in armor. Beyond 
them the lancers, with their long lances and tricolored banners 
affixed to the end, produced a very picturesque appearance. 
The Champs Elysees were occupied by a fine train of artillery. 
On the other side the quays and the Place du Carrousel were 
filled by the Garde Nationale of Paris and the Ban-lieu. As 
the National Guard a cheval defiled before the troops of the 
line they saluted each other with cries of " Vive la ligne ! Vive 
la Garde Nationale ! " The King passed them in review, and 
seemed to be very enthusiastically received. 

In the morning at about six the Duke of Orleans and the 
Duke of Nemours rode down towards the barricades ; and as they 
passed down the Rue St. Martin were shot at from some of the 
windows. The guards immediately broke into the house and 
killed every one in it, about forty. Before evening tranquillity 
seemed to be almost restored, and to-day we are entirely quiet. 

April 28, 1834. 

Among the various celebrities I have not neglected M. 
Cousin. As he is engaged during the day at the Chamber of 
Peers, I was obliged to call on him in the morning before break- 
fast, between nine and ten. After a short time he entered, 
apparently just out of bed. He is about forty years of age, 
good-looking, with agreeable manners and conversation. I 
passed three quarters of an hour with him. He spoke of the 
various peculiar religious sects in Europe and America, — the 
Saint-Simonians, Mennonites, Shakers, etc. He said his work 
on Education had been translated in England, and Owen had 
claimed some of his ideas as his own, saying that he had pro- 
pounded them at New Lanark, though he did not believe it. 
He showed me the American edition of his work on Philosophy, 
which had been sent him. He has lately published another 
work, which I have bought. I regret not to have seen more of 
M. Cousin, as I have seldom met with any one whose conversa- 
tion was more instructive. He inquired particularly for Mr. 
Everett, to whom he desired his best respects. I must also 
return him mine for his kindness in giving me the introduction. 



176 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Dr. Warren's second winter in Paris was essentially 
but a repetition of the first, both as to the nature of his 
occupations, the incessant claims of his professional pur- 
suits, and the rapidity with which the weeks and months 
rolled on. Spring came upon him almost before he was 
aware of its approach, and the day upon which he had 
decided to leave for London found him with not a few of 
his many designs barely accomplished. Still much had 
been done, and the rest must be left to another season 
and more favorable opportunities. Under date of April 
28, 1834, he wrote to his father: — 

" I leave Paris to-day in the afternoon, taking the diligence 
to Strasburg, whence I propose to go down the Rhine and 
stop at Heidelberg on the way. I shall pass through Holland 
and Belgium, and see some of the medical men, if possible." 

On the 15th of May he was in Amsterdam, whence he 
wrote at great length to his father. 

"The Museum at Heidelberg is chiefly celebrated for its 
preparations of the lymphatics by Tiedemann, one of the pelvis 
the most beautiful I have ever seen. I went there with the 
expectation of seeing Blumenbach, but was much disappointed 
on learning that he was at Gottingen. I was almost tempted to 
take the diligence to that town and pay him a visit, but time 
was so precious that I was obliged to abandon it. By far the 
most magnificent collection of healthy and morbid anatomy I 
have ever seen was at Leyden. It was the work of many dis- 
tinguished men, like Albinus, Brugmans, Ruysch, and others, 
and is most admirably arranged in a building designed for the 
purpose. I observed two skeletons, one six feet and a half high, 
the other that of a woman who died at the age of one hundred 
and ten years, with the vertebrae forming the segment of a cir- 
cle. The wet preparations were exquisite. One of them was 
by Ruysch, the only specimen left from his collection, which 
was sold to the Emperor of Russia. It represented a child's 
face, so nicely injected, even to the papillae of the tongue, as 
to look as fresh as the living subject. 



MUSEUM AT LEYDEN. 177 

" The dislocations were very fine, among them what I took to 
be a cast, as I could not examine it in the case, of a dislocation 
behind and backwards, which showed well the formation of the 
new cavity for the head of the bone. This must have been 
taken from an original in the possession of Du Pui, who has, I 
believe, a cabinet of his own. He is now very old and decrepit, 
and I did not think myself justified in calling on him without 
an introduction. The curator of the Museum, an old gentleman 
of the ancien regime, in wig, small-clothes, and shoes, very kindly 
went round with us and explained the specimens through an 
interpreter, who was a bright little boy, though we found his 
explanations somewhat unsatisfactory, as he did not understand 
medical terms. In the course of our visit I told the boy to 
express our gratification to the old gentleman, and also to inform 
him that we were Americans. I could not understand the 
deference with which we were treated after he had done this, 
until I finally discovered that the youngster had mischievously 
intimated to the custodian that I was the son of the Emperor of 
America, which he evidently believed. 

" Altogether this collection would have been well worth a jour- 
ney expressly from Paris, as it is unequalled in Europe, so far 
as I have seen. The Museum of Natural History at Leyden 
ranks with that of the Garden of Plants, and is in some respects 
superior." 

On the 17th of May Dr. Warren arrived in London, 
after a somewhat stormy passage of thirty-six hours by 
steamer from Eotterdam. He learned on the next day 
of the sad loss of his friend Jackson, and was much 
depressed by it. 

London, May 18, 1834. 
I have just received letters informing me of the death of 
Jackson, which has thrown quite a gloom over us here. I had 
written him not long since, and was in hopes that he had quite 
recovered his health. His loss will be to Boston a real one, not 
only to his friends, but to the medical profession, of which he 
was destined to be a great reformer. The effect produced here 
and in Paris has been very great. One of his friends just from 
France tells me that Louis on hearing the news of his death was 
altogether overcome, quite unable to contain himself; and many 

12 



178 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

others of his friends there were much affected by it. Dr. Boott 
here, whom I have met, seems to have suffered a great deal, 
having been much attached to Jackson. I have seldom seen 
such a general feeling expressed on all sides. There was an 
enthusiasm about him such that few of those intimately ac- 
quainted with him could help being much interested in his 
welfare. I am happy to find that his father has displayed so 
much fortitude on the occasion, — a time at which a man's real 
character commonly displays itself. 1 

May 28, he writes : — 

" The weather is delightful, and the city was never more 
crowded with strangers, or gayer, than now. There are not 
only great numbers of concerts and an immense display of 
musical talent, but six hundred musicians are to give a festival 
in Westminster Abbey, the first of this kind for fifty years, and 
it is under the patronage of the King and Koyal Family." 

For the next few weeks Dr. Warren found his time 
fully employed ; and his only embarrassment arose from 
the difficulty he experienced in choosing among the 
numberless invitations, professional and social, that were 
offered on every hand and from every quarter. Mr. and 
Mrs. Bates were extremely kind. He saw much of his 
friend Mr. Phillips. Sir Astley Cooper and other prominent 
members of the faculty were lavish of their attentions. 

1 With so many memories that seemed to shine through his sorrow, like stars 
piercing the gloom of night, Dr. Warren must have read with a vivid interest the 
tribute, warm from a tender heart and quickened by recent grief, which Dr. Holmes 
paid to their mutual companion shortly after his death. No apology will be needed 
for reproducing it here, not merely as a touching pendant to that glowing Parisian 
life, but as a reminder of one whom not even youth, talent, and an heroic nature 
could rescue from an early grave. 

"And thou, dear friend, whom Science still deplores, 
And love still mourns on ocean-severed shores, 
Though the bleak forest twice has bowed with snow 
Since thou wast laid its budding leaves below, 
Thine image mingles with my closing strain, 
As when we wandered by the turbid Seine, 
Both blessed with hopes which revelled, bright and free, 
On all we longed, or all we dreamed to be ; 
To thee the amaranth and the cypress fell, — 
And I was spared to breathe this last farewell." 



SIR ASTLEY COOPER. 179 

" Dr. Boott desired me to call on him for anything in the na- 
ture of letters of introduction, etc. Mr. Ciift, the curator of 
Hunter's Museum, has promised me a sight of it, though it has 
really been closed for two years on account of additions to the 
building. He has also most kindly offered to take me to a 
meeting of the Royal Society, at which the Duke of Sussex 
will preside." 

The great yearly gathering of the Quakers was then 
taking place, and Miss Anna Braithwaite asked Mrs. Fry 
to introduce him there. Of the great variety and the 
incessant pressure of his engagements, the numerous 
and lengthy letters he contrived to write afford ample 
evidence. 

London, June 5, 1834. 

My dear Father, — The day after my arrival in London, 
I called on Sir Astley Cooper, who received me, as usual, with 
the greatest cordiality. He is now, I suppose, about sixty-five 
years of age, with a tall, commanding figure ; slightly inclined 
to corpulency, though this hardly appears, as he wears a frock- 
coat buttoned up to the neck. His expression is peculiarly invit- 
ing, with an air of good humor which places the stranger quite at 
his ease. He becomes more serious as he enters into conversa- 
tion, when he always introduces some subject of interest to his 
visitor. On the present occasion he inquired first for you, then 
asked if I had brought back Mrs. W., and finally touched upon 
our home politics, as to which he seemed well informed. We 
happened upon the subject of fractures, and he gave me his 
ideas on that of the neck of the thigh bone, upon which he has 
lately published an article in the " Medical Gazette," in answer 
to some remarks of Dupuytren in one of his lectures. He said 
he had thus far taken no notice of the misstatements of various 
persons as to his opinions in this matter, but now found it 
necessary to refute the assertions of so high an authority as 
Dupuytren. He never denied that a bony union of the neck of 
the thigh bone could take place, that he has specimens which 
prove it ; but that it occurred only when the ligament which 
covers the neck was entirely torn through, so as to prevent all 
nourishment from reaching it. In most cases a ligamentous 
union resulted ; and he thought that this should be permitted, 



180 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

especially in old persons where extension might cause serious 
accident or death. In young and strong people extension 
might be tried for some time to give them a chance, though 
Nature seemed to have intended in some of the fractures that 
the union should be by ligament, as appears in fractures of the 
patella, especially among animals, which are almost always 
united in this manner. " Tell your father," said Sir Astley, 
" that our treatment of these fractures of the patella is entirely 
different from what it was when he was here. We now use a 
splint. The patient is placed with the thigh flexed, so as to re- 
lax the muscles and allow the ligamentous union to take place." 
This subject, and some others, occupied all my visit. 

I called again on him yesterday to introduce a friend of mine 
from Philadelphia. He gave us the characters of some of the 
leading men in Parliament, and made some remarks on educa- 
tion in our country. Cobbett, it seems, opposed the other even- 
ing the bill for the education of the lower classes now before 
the House ; saying that statistics from the New York prisons 
showed that educated criminals were in much greater propor- 
tion than uneducated ones, and that the same was the case in 
Ireland, Scotland, etc. ; also that the French commissioner to 
our country had drawn the same conclusions. Cobbett proposed 
to put boys to the plough, and let them pick up what they could 
to a certain age. I have the " Times," and will try to send you 
the debates. Sir Astley gave me cards to all the different hos- 
pitals, — to Bell, Guthrie, Brodie, Travers, Tyrrel, Lawrence, 
and others. I attacked him about the preparation, which I told 
him I should insist on having before I left town. He seemed to 
yield a tacit consent, and I doubt not that I shall succeed. Sir 
Astley receives his consultation visits from ten to twelve, and his 
antechamber is always full. I found the only way to see him 
was to make the servant smuggle me in before my time through 
a side room, giving him something for his trouble. 

I have been attending the Eye Infirmary, where there are 
over two hundred patients daily. I saw an amputation by 
Morgan, day before yesterday, and yesterday Mr. Clift spent 
five hours in showing us the whole Hunterian Museum. He 
was one of Hunter's students, and helped him put up most of 
his preparations, being thus one of the best persons to explain 
the object to be illustrated by each. The Museum has been 



MR. GREEN. 181 

closed for some years with the object of making changes and 
-additions to the building, so that we were very fortunate in 
having a letter to the curator, else we could not have seen it. 
The rabbits' ears, transplanted teeth, etc., mentioned in Hunter's 
work on Inflammation, were very interesting. 

June 6. 

I was prevented from going last evening to the meeting of the 
Royal Society by an engagement to dine at Mr. Grant's, which 
I had forgotten. However, two of my friends went, and met 
there Mr. Stanley of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and Mr. Green 
of St. Thomas's, one of the most celebrated surgeons here. They 
were both very polite, and asked them to attend their visits. 
This morning we went to St. Thomas's, and I delivered to Mr. 
Green my letter from Sir Astley. He is a tall, good-natured 
man, resembling Dr. Reynolds, and of very polite address. He 
took us round with him, explaining the customs, etc., of the 
hospital, and showing the most interesting cases. Among these 
were a couple of new noses, which resembled pieces of batter- 
pudding stuck on the faces, though the operations had been 
well done, and the new features will be much improved, doubt- 
less, when the blood begins to circulate in them. After we had 
seen all the cases and asked various questions, he took us to the 
other buildings connected with the hospital, including the Mu- 
seum, which is very fine. Here we saw the aorta tied by Sir 
Astley ; diseases of the bone mentioned in his works ; the prep- 
aration of the first case of carotid aneurism, the patient dying 
afterwards of apoplexy, showing no want of blood in the brain ; 
and various others of interest. Mr. Green was exceedingly 
polite, and offered to introduce us to Elliotson and the other 
surgeons of St. Thomas, and desired us to come and see his 
practice to-morrow. To-morrow I shall go to St. Bartholomew's. 
I intend going shortly to Kingston on a visit to Dr. Roots. 
Through a recommendation from Mr. Clift, I have got a dozen 
and a half very nice small preparation bottles, and he also showed 
me his method of putting them up. The weather is very pleas- 
ant, and my continual engagements make the time pass very 
rapidly. To-day I intend visiting the House of Commons. 

With best love to Mamma, believe me 

Your affectionate son, 

J. M. Warren. 



182 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

London, June 20, 1834. 

My dear Father, — In my last letter I gave some account 
of Sir Astley's ideas on the fracture of the neck of the thigh 
bone, in which you will perceive that his opinion has been 
somewhat modified since you were here. He seems to avoid 
the question a little by saying that when he gave his opinion he 
had never seen a case, though he did not deny its possibility. 
Of this you can judge best yourself. I mentioned going round 
with Mr. Green, who was very polite, and gave me free admis- 
sion to the Museum of St. Thomas, which, though not so large 
as that of Guy's, contains many very beautiful and valuable 
preparations. I saw Dr. Hodgkin the next day, and he gave 
me a ticket to Guy's Museum during my stay in London. I 
should have stated that among the novelties at St. Thomas's 
was their treatment of hydrocele by seton, which I saw done by 
Mr. Green at the bedside. The scrotum being punctured, and 
the contents evacuated, a long needle with seton was introduced 
through the tunica vaginalis, thrust out at the upper part of the 
scrotum, and the seton tied. 

The day after our visit to St. Thomas's we went to St. Bar- 
tholomew's, where I delivered my card to Mr. Stanley, lecturer 
on anatomy and internal pathology, who introduced me to Mr. 
Earle, Mr. Lawrence, and Mr. Vincent. Mr. Lawrence has a 
gentlemanly air, a fine, bright eye, and decidedly intellectual 
features. I attended him on his rounds, and he very politely 
pointed out the interesting cases, among them a fracture of the 
neck of the thigh bone, which he ordered to be placed on the 
double inclined plane of Goodwin, now generally employed 
for this accident. There was also a fracture of the patella, 
which was treated, as I mentioned in my last letter, by placing 
the leg on a plane at an angle of forty-five degrees with the 
body. After visiting the other wards, we came to the syphilitic 
patients, who have one to themselves. Their treatment does 
not differ from ours, — mercury in the primary disease, and sar- 
saparilla for worn-out constitutions. 

Mr. Lawrence gave us an invitation to attend his operations 
on the following Saturday, and Mr. Stanley gave us admission 
to the Museum, which is a very nice one. At Guy's I have not 
accompanied the surgeons of late, but have attended their op- 
erations every Tuesday. Key operated last week for popliteal 
aneurism, and this week I saw Callaway amputate the breast, 



HOSPITALS. 183 

and Bransby Cooper cut out from the leg a ball which had been 
for a long time imbedded between the bone and the tendo 
Achillis. 

One of the finest hospitals in London is St. George's, at Hyde 
Park Corner, which latterly has been altered and almost entirely 
rebuilt. The rooms throughout are admirably arranged, and 
furnished with small, low iron bedsteads, over each of which 
an iron bar supports curtains when required ; and also a rope 
with a handle, for the patient to use when too weak to raise 
himself or turn in bed. The wards are ventilated after a new 
plan, not easily described in a letter. The surgeons are Mr. 
Brodie, Mr. Babington, and Mr. Hawkins. I had a card to 
Mr. Brodie, and he gave orders to one of the house surgeons to 
show us about. The water-beds, of which you have heard, 
have fallen into disuse, from getting damp. They were of oil- 
cloth, filled with water, and used for very debilitated persons, 
to prevent gangrene from long lying on one side. 

I saw Mr. Green at St. Thomas's operate in rather an odd 
case, a few days since, of an apparently well-defined tumor just 
below the groin. On cutting down, however, no tumor was to 
be found ; and after a long examination the swelling proved to 
have arisen from a large accumulation of lymph between the 
muscles, which had been compressed into adhesion by a blow. 

Since I have been here I have given by far the most of my 
attention to diseases of the eye, and, through the kindness of 
those at the head of the various institutions, I have been able 
to see a great number of operations by the most eminent men, 
thus gaining much valuable information. The largest of these 
institutions is the Ophthalmic Infirmary, Moorfields. The sur- 
geons are Scott and Tyrrel, to the former of whom I had a 
letter from Dr. Peirson and a card from Sir Astley. He invited 
me to attend him at the Infirmary, and also at the London Hos- 
pital, of which he is surgeon. I have, however, mostly followed 
Mr. Macmurdo, assistant at the Ophthalmic, who has been 
extremely polite, desiring us to ask any questions about the 
patients. Of this we have freely availed ourselves, and, I sus- 
pect, have much lengthened his visits. Among the numerous 
changes of late years has been the treatment of diseases of the 
lachrymal passages. The tumor of the sack, which was so often 
operated on, is not now in one case out of ten. The antiphlo- 



184 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

gistic treatment is ordered, — leeches to the eye, one or two at 
a time, continued for two, three, or even six months. I think I 
have stated in one of my letters Lisfranc's practice in this dis- 
ease, much the same as the application of steam from water to 
the nostrils by a machine for the purpose. I have never before 
seen such good examples of the use of belladonna as a pallia- 
tive in cataract, and in inflammation of the iris to dilate the 
pupil and prevent adhesion. 

For cataract, the method now most frequent here is that of 
extraction, the upper half of the cornea being divided, not only 
because the cicatrix at this point is less perceived, but also to 
avoid the escape of the vitreous humor, which does not so often 
occur by this treatment. The patient is placed on a bed made 
for the purpose in front of a window, with his head supported 
on a hard pillow, and is thus more steady. It has been observed 
that since this plan was adopted, the escape of the vitreous 
humor happens much more rarely. The operator sits behind 
the patient, having thus the full light on the eye, and also the 
advantage of being able to support the upper lid, and fix the 
organ himself. 

Mr. Tyrrel operated very beautifully last Friday for extrac- 
tion and for artificial pupil, and to-day I saw Scott perform two 
similar operations. The lens extracted in this case was very 
dark, with some blackish spots, and was the only one that I 
have ever seen at all approaching what has been called " black 
cataract." 

The other hospital for diseases of the eye is that at West- 
minster, of which Guthrie is surgeon. I had a card to him from 
Sir Astley, and was received with the greatest kindness. He 
introduced me to the house surgeons, and has requested me to 
attend his practice during my stay in the city. I have already 
seen him operate twice, and very expertly. The patient is 
placed on a chair made for the purpose, the head laid back, and 
the operator behind. The operation is much the same as that 
described above, with this peculiarity that after the surgeon has 
passed his knife quite through the cornea, and just as he is 
about to complete the section, he suddenly withdraws it, leaving 
the cornea above attached by a slight pedicel. By this means, 
Guthrie says, in those large, full, bulging eyes, he prevents a 
too sudden escape of the humors. The section is completed by 



ME. GUTHRIE. 185 

a small bistoury, the capsule opened with a hooked needle 
instead of the cystitome of Roux, which, however, I prefer in 
appearance, and then, by slight pressure on the lower lid, the 
lens is slipped out. In one case in which, after the knife — 
that of Richter — had been introduced, the patient, by twisting 
round the eye, contrived to slip it off before the section was 
completed. Guthrie used a knife invented, or at least modified 
by himself, to effect his object. This has two blades, one slip- 
ping on the other. The under one is blunt, and of silver; the 
upper that of Richter, and sharp. In this case, as the aqueous 
humor had escaped, and the iris protruded and was in contact 
with the cornea, there would have been danger of wounding it 
if a cutting instrument had been introduced. The object of 
this one was to pass it in and across the iris concealed, when, 
on reaching the opposite side, the blade was thrust out, and 
compelled the division. The knife of Jager, which you have 
doubtless seen, and of which this is but a modification, has two 
cutting blades, and is used to prevent a double motion of the 
hand. 

In Guthrie's practice there is nothing else that I see peculiar 
except in those cases of ophthalmia attended with a dilated, 
full, spongy state of the vessels of the conjunctive tunic. He 
introduced an ointment composed of ten grains of nit. argent, 
to the drachm of lard, which is done with a brush. 

As my letter has already reached an uncommon length, I must 
defer to another time the museums, which are very interesting. 

I dined last Tuesday with Sir Astley and Lady Cooper, — a 
very handsome party. Sir Astley introduced me as the grand- 
nephew of General Warren, leader at the battle of Bunker Hill, 
which, by the way, I did not think they relished much. The 
party was very pleasant, consisting, with others, of Mr. Cooper, 
a brother of Sir Astley, and member of Parliament, — a fine- 
looking old man ; Mr. and Mrs. Brodie ; Colonel Cooper, a 
nephew of Sir Astley's ; and some others, whose names I did 
not hear. The dinner was very magnificent ; and among the 
dishes was a fine haunch of venison, not, however, equalling the 
American. In the centre of the table were a superb gold plateau 
and the vases presented to Sir Astley by George IV. 

I was very glad to see Sir Astley in this light, and hear his 
conversation, disburdened of medical affairs. He seems to well 



186 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

understand good living, and, from his specimens, must be an 
excellent connoisseur of wines. After the ladies had retired, 
the conversation took a different turn, in which Mr. Brodie 
joined, and seemed to be a very sensible man. He has at pres- 
ent, I hear, the best practice of any surgeon in London. 

Sir Astley has in his drawing-room a full-length portrait of 
himself by Sir Thomas Lawrence, for which he said he sat six 
years. He has lately been at Oxford, at the installation of the 
Duke of Wellington, and made LL.D. there. 

The medical men whom I have seen here are Bright and 
Elliotson, to both of whom I had letters of introduction. They 
were very polite, and Dr. Bright showed us the lunatic asylum 
connected with Guy's, one of the neatest and best regulated I 
have seen abroad. I say nothing of the English practice and 
mode of examination, which stands but a poor chance in com- 
parison with that rigid scrutiny adopted to get at the truth in 
France ; and the treatment is, after all, half of it quackery in 
England, though I think the French, when it is called for, are 
quite active enough in their treatment, notwithstanding the 
assertions of English writers. 

At St. Bartholomew's this morning a distinguished surgeon 
of that institution favored me with the sight of a most perfect 
wet preparation of dislocation of the neck of the thigh bone, 
backwards and downwards. The case had occurred in his own 
practice, and he has politely offered to give it to me. I will 
mention the particulars in my next. Nothing has pleased me 
so much for a long time. 

London, July 9, 1834. 

My dear Father, — In my last letter I mentioned that I had 
discovered in the Museum of St. Bartholomew's Hospital a very 
interesting specimen of dislocation of the hip backwards and 
downwards. While Mr. Stanley was explaining to us the most 
peculiar of the pathological preparations he stopped at one and 
said, " Here is a specimen that will be very interesting to you 
Americans," and went on to remark that some time ago he saw 
in one of our papers a report of a trial in which it was asserted, 
in opposition to the testimony of a surgical witness, that a 
case in which he had been consulted could not have been a dislo- 
cation backwards and downwards because Sir Astley Cooper in 



MR. STANLEY. 187 

all his practice had never met with such an instance. This 
specimen, he said, proves that however large a surgeon's expe- 
rience may be, some things may escape him. He then showed 
us a beautiful and most satisfactory wet preparation of a dis- 
location backwards and downwards which occurred under his 
own eyes. This is most valuable, as the patient died immedi- 
ately after the accident and no attempts were made to reduce 
the fracture, and you have it with all the soft parts still there. 
I told Mr. Stanley that my father was the surgeon whose views 
were attacked, and I was most happy to have seen the prepara- 
tion, which I had looked for in all the museums of Europe. 
The one at Leyclen, though satisfactory, is not equal to this, as 
no history is attached. Mr. Stanley very politely offered to give 
me the particulars, so far as they had been preserved, if I would 
call at his house. This I did yesterday, and I enclose you the 
case as extracted from his book. He has been exceedingly kind 
to us, introduced us to all the surgeons of St. Bartholomew's, 
and given us free admission to his museum. He was a coadju- 
tor of Abernethy at St. Bartholomew's, and is one of the most 
distinguished anatomists of London. 

I had intended to leave town on Friday, but Mr. Stanley 
asked me to defer my departure, if possible, one day, and with 
my friends finish my visit here with a dinner of English mutton 
and a talk on anatomy. This was the more polite as being 
quite uncalled for ; and I told him that on leaving London, what- 
ever we might have to complain of, it would not be a want of 
hospitality, — in fact, we have received the utmost attention on 
all sides. 

This morning Dr. Hodgkin gave me an introduction to Lang- 
staff, who has one of the best museums in London, ranking next 
to that of Guy's, and particularly rich in specimens of diseases 
of the urinary organs. At Guy's yesterday I saw Key operate 
for a fungoid tumor of the antrum, — a most disagreeable opera- 
tion. He used for cutting the bone the forceps of Liston, which 
I was glad to see tested, as I have just bought a pair. The pair 
I sent you are similar, though on a larger scale. Mr. Key after- 
wards took off a leg by a flap operation peculiar to himself. 
He is one of the most beautiful operators for the stone in Eu- 
rope. I saw him operate the other day on a boy of eight years 
in half a minute. The rapidity with which he performed each 



188 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

step of the operation was quite magical, and all with no apparent 
hurry. Dupuytren, on seeing him operate, said that he had wit- 
nessed many operations and had done many himself for the 
stone, but had never observed one to equal that of Key. 

In my letter to Mary I mentioned having been at a large pub- 
lic dinner given for the funds of the Eye Institution. Travers 
and Tyrrel were present with others, and both spoke, as also 
did Farre, coadjutor with Saunders in founding the institution. 
The meeting was very pleasant, and a good example of a Lon- 
don dinner. 

I had sent in to me yesterday a very neat case of newly in- 
vented forceps for extracting the stumps of teeth, which I have 
had made for Dr. Flagg. The inventor called on me yesterday 
and left his card. I believe he wishes to try them on me, that 
I may report their success in America. As I did not care to 
have this experiment made, I have not yet returned his visit. 

I shall leave town on Saturday, the 12th, for Portsmouth or 
Salisbury, go through Bath and Bristol and Shrewsbury to 
Holyhead, from there taking the steamboat for Dublin. Dr. 
Hodgkin says there is to be a famous assemblage of the most 
celebrated literary men of Great Britain at Edinburgh on the 
first of September. If I remain in this country, as now appears 
probable, I shall try to be present. 

By a vessel going to Boston on the 20th I send you a box 
containing preparation glasses, one of casts whose history I 
have, and a third of gazettes and papers ; also some of Atkin- 
son's almond soap and paste ; also the work of Bennati on the 
Voice, the only one I know of. I have made every attempt to 
get Bell's paper, but my bookseller has not yet succeeded. 
Your affectionate son, 

J. M. Warren. 



CHAPTER XI. 

FUTURE PLANS. — JOURNEY TO DUBLIN". EDINBURGH AND 

THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION. — RETURN TO LONDON AND 
PARIS. — LETTERS FROM PARIS. — RETURN TO AMERICA. 

"When Dr. "Warren left Boston for Europe it had been 
his father's intention and his own desire that his absence 
should last but two years, a period which was then re- 
garded as sufficient to enable the young physician to 
gain such professional improvement as could not be 
secured at home. This limit had been already reached 
and exceeded ; and though Dr. Warren had clearly per- 
ceived the advantages that would accrue from another 
winter abroad and had suggested them to his father, he 
had now given up any prospects of this nature and had 
decided to sail for home in the ensuing autumn. On the 
5th of July he informed his father of his intention to sail 
on the 1st of October, " though I shall probably go to 
Paris in the middle of September for final preparations 
and purchases." A few days after his letter of the 5th of 
July, however, he received intelligence from his father 
which resulted in a complete change of his plans and 
a resolution to prolong his stay in Europe till the coining 
spring. In a letter from "Oxford, July 12, 1834," he 
w T rites : — 

My dear Father, — Just after having sent off my letter 
yesterday to Boston, I received your letter dated June 8, on the 
subject of remaining abroad another year, and hardly know what 
to answer. I have omitted writing, hoping that a little re- 
flection during my ride down to this city might arrange my 
thoughts, but do not find myself at all helped out of my dirficul- 



190 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

ties. When I look back on the long period of two years and 
think how favored I have been in having no great calamity 
occur in my own immediate family, it seems almost a tempting 
of Providence still to prolong my stay abroad. To break up 
also the hopes of seeing my family and of possibly being of some 
use to yourself just as they seemed about to be realized, must 
require a most cool and stoical consideration of the advantages 
offered by such a course. No doubt remains in my own mind 
that those must be great to a person who, like myself, has been 
necessarily obliged to divide his attention equally between the 
study of medicine and of surgery. Many of the collateral 
branches must be neglected. The object of another winter in 
Paris would be an attention to chemistry, surgical diseases, 
syphilitic diseases, and the eye, in which I have got a pretty good 
start here, the clinique of Louis, also the lectures of the Sorbonne, 
particularly those of Moral Philosophy, which I have much de- 
sired to follow and study. 

During my residence abroad I have always given some time 
every day in the winter to a study of languages, — French and 
Italian. In a third winter I should promise myself the acqui- 
sition of the German language. The objection of a change in 
habits and feelings to a long stay abroad, though without doubt 
true in respect to some persons, yet I cannot allow it in re- 
gard to myself. I find my attraction to home and my own 
country only strengthened by time, and the sacrifice which I 
shall make if I should determine on this course can be known 
only to myself. I could wish much for the advice of some one 
to help me out of my difficulties, and must wait a time before I 
can determine. Whatever I do, however, I cannot fail to appre- 
ciate most highly the kind and affectionate consideration for my 
interests in which this consent has been given. I trust that if I 
avail myself of it, it may not be without its consequences. 

To this his father returned the following answer : — 

Boston, Aug. 22, 1834. 

My dear Mason, — Yours of the 12th of July, in which you 
state the embarrassments you experienced as to remaining over 
winter, I received, and you request me to write you again on the 
subject. The letters I have already written contain all that I 
can say. On the one part, it is most desirable for yourself and 



PATERNAL COUNSELS. 191 

me that you should be at home ; on the other, that your edu- 
cation should be so complete that you will want nothing but 
practice. You will be expected to come home with a perfect 
knowledge of the manual of surgical operations in the most im- 
proved form. You will be expected to be fully acquainted with 
auscultation and percussion, which are the fashion of the day, 
and to be well acquainted with the prevalent medical doctrines. 
A deficiency in these points would not fail to be noticed. For 
the rest, besides possessing a reasonable knowledge of the heal- 
ing art, you ought to bring home, if possible, something new and 
striking, at the same time guarding your acquirements with the 
respect for others without which a medical man cannot be liked 
by his profession. 

Your health is a primary object to me. It is more important 
you should be well than be learned. Bear this in mind. Do 
not fritter away your health by too much labor, still less by too 
good living. Twice you have barely escaped with life. Be 
careful of your living. Let your food be regular and sparing. 
Pay attention to the state of the bowels. Use sufficient exer- 
cise. Above all, turn your daily thoughts in thankfulness to the 
Giver of so many blessings, the Redeemer on whom alone you 
can rely for the atonement of all transgressions. Having viewed 
your position with the lights I have thus presented, adopt the 
best course you can ; I shall be satisfied. Should you remain 
over winter, you will calculate so as to be here by the end of 
May, or sooner, if it will answer. 

Your affectionate father, 

J. C. Warren. 

Feeling well assured of his father's approval of his 
plans, Dr. Warren left London for Dublin and Edinburgh, 
as he had designed, from whence he wrote home letters of 
the usual length and interest. 

Dublin, July 28, 1834. 

My dear Father, — The day after my arrival here I called 
on your friend Dr. Breen, who received me very politely. He 
is a good-looking man of middle age, quite gray and rather near- 
sighted. He inquired particularly for you and your pursuits. We 
had a long conversation about Edinburgh and the schools there at 



192 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

the time of your studies. He remembered Dr. Simmons well ; also 
Collins, who he said was still alive and in Wales. Another — 
Ives, of Norwich, I think — died many years ago. He mentioned 
your opinion at that time of Sir Astley Cooper, who was hardly 
expected to become the man he has. Dr. Breen is a thoroughly 
good-hearted Irishman and does nothing by halves. He asked 
me to dine with him the next day. 

The following day, at his request, I called on him about eleven, 
and he took me round in his carriage and introduced me to 
a number of medical men ; he also carried me to the Medical 
Reading Room, to which I am to have free admission during my 
stay here. I afterwards rode out of town with him, and he 
talked of the politics of the day, both at home and in America, 
with whose history he seems well acquainted. He said the last 
time he heard from you was through Mr. and Mrs. Sears, who 
were here in 1812 with their first child. He appears to have 
been much pleased with Mrs. Sears. He observed that he had 
expected to see many more of your writings, having in fact 
met with nothing but your paper on organic diseases of the 
heart, which was much prized here as well as in Edinburgh, 
where, by the way, I sent a copy to a gentleman who requested 
it about a year ago. I told him you had written occasionally on 
different subjects, but that the great pressure of business, both 
in and out of the profession, had prevented you from under- 
taking any very extensive work. 

At Dr. Breen's we had a very pleasant party ; with others, 
Dr. Kennedy, head physician and Master, so called here, of 
the Lying-in Hospital, who sat next me at table ; very intelli- 
gent and agreeable. He was polite enough to ask me to break- 
fast the following day and see his hospital. Dr. Montgomery, a 
celebrated accoucheur, was also present; and I am to breakfast 
with him on Wednesday and see his museum, which is the best 
of the kind — being all preparations in midwifery — in Great 
Britain. I have also an engagement to call on Mr. Treat, 
surgeon of the Cork-Street Fever Hospital, and visit his estab- 
lishment to-day. Dr. Breen's wife is still living, and he has six 
or seven children. His eldest daughter, a fine girl, and his son, 
who is studying law, were at table. 

After dinner it is the invariable custom here to bring on hot 
water and whiskey, when each of the company is called upon 



DUBLIN. 193 

for a song ; and on this occasion some of the guests sang with 
great effect. 

Yesterday I breakfasted with Dr. Kennedy and visited his 
hospital, and afterwards passed two hours with Dr. Macartney, 
a most singular man, and went over his museum. 

Dublin, Aug. 2, 1834. 

My dear Father, — Since I last wrote I have visited most 
of the public institutions here, and have been much gratified by 
the way in which they are conducted and by the obliging 
attentions of those in charge of them. The day after my dinner 
at Dr. Breen's I breakfasted with Dr. Kennedy, Master of the 
Lying-in Hospital, and afterwards went through the wards with 
him. The building can contain about two hundred patients, 
and is one of the best-conducted institutions I have seen in Eu- 
rope. The patients are admitted by an order from one of the 
overseers, showing that they are not able to pay for assistance 
out of the hospital. Each is kept three or four days after con- 
finement, and then, if in the right state, discharged with proper 
directions. I observed nothing peculiarly interesting in the 
treatment. Many of the children are affected with purulent 
ophthalmia just after birth, which is treated with a caustic solu- 
tion, sometimes as strong as ten grains of nit. arg. to the 
ounce of water. The wards are cut up as small as possible, 
and generally well ventilated. The beds are well aired as soon 
as the patients leave them, and the floors sprinkled with chloride 
of lime. One of the most interesting facts I noticed here was 
the use of the stethoscope. 

Having received an invitation from Dr. Montgomery to break- 
fast with him and inspect his museum, I went to him, and was 
much delighted with his fine collection, which consists entirely 
of preparations for his lectures on midwifery, which are deliv- 
ered at Sir Patrick Dun's Hospital. The specimens were very 
beautiful, and after examining them I was taken through the 
hospital by Dr. Montgomery. It is built entirely of stone, with 
stone floors in the wards, which are very high and ventilated by 
apertures in the four corners of the ceiling communicating with 
the air without. 

Part of another day I devoted to the museum of Dr. Macart- 
ney, at Trinity College. He made an appointment and occupied 

13 



194 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

two hours in showing me the whole of it. The preparations 
are many of them very fine and made by himself, he giving the 
greater part of his time to the sole object of preparing for his 
lectures on anatomy and physiology, of which he is professor in 
Trinity College. Among the curiosities which he has here, is a 
paper signed by a great number of persons, himself at their 
head, for giving their bodies after death to be dissected. He has 
already the skeletons of one or two persons who have given their 
bodies, — one of Dr. O'Connor, whose heart he has burned. He 
preserves the ashes in a little bronze vase on a marble pedestal 
with an appropriate inscription. He also has the arm exposed 
with the skin on in a dried state. Besides O'Connor's body, 
Dr. Macartney has the skeleton of Madame Barre, a celebrated 
Amazon under Robespierre in the French revolution and a cor- 
respondent of Bonaparte's. She left her body and ten pounds 
to have it dissected by the Doctor, writing this part of her will 
with her own hand. He has also a portion of her skin tanned 
quite as good as shoe-leather, of which he gave me a piece for 
your museum. He has also the skeleton of a man with many of 
the muscles of the back completely ossified, also of the legs, and 
other parts of the body. All the joints are in a state of an- 
chylosis. The skeleton of an Irish giant seven and a half feet 
high is also curious. 

Dr. Macartney is one of the most eccentric men I have yet 
come across, and his conversation was very amusing. He seems 
to set but little value on his wax preparations, which he keeps in 
a kind of outhouse in a very good state of preparation. A small 
burying-ground for the remains of the dissected is just behind 
the dissecting-room, and over the entrance a marble slab with 
something like the following inscription : " Here lie the bodies 
of those who after their death have honorably chosen to be of 
use to their fellow-creatures." 

Dr. Macartney gave me some good hints as to making prep- 
arations, — one for the preservation of their color, which is to 
immerse them, previous to putting them in spirit, in a solution 
of alum and nitrate of potash. Wet preparations may be in- 
jected with this for preserving their forms, and may also be suf- 
ficiently hardened to keep without the aid of spirit. 

Besides the above hospitals and museums I have been all over 
the fine Lunatic Hospital founded by Dean Swift, and of which 



EDINBURGH. 195 

he himself was the first inmate, and the Steevens Hospital, the 
most extensive in Dublin. The chief surgeons, Drs. Colles and 
Cusack, are now in London attending an examination in regard 
to the state of medical science in Great Britain. I have been at 
two or three other hospitals with the physicians, to most of 
whom I have been introduced. 1 Having seen so much, I shall 
not remain longer in Dublin ; for though there is no difficulty in 
visiting these institutions, they are rather particular in regard to 
students following them unless regularly entered. I shall there- 
fore stay longer in Edinburgh, where I can attend without 
difficulty. I am going into Wales for a few days, and through 
to Liverpool, where I have some business to attend to. I shall 
then take the steamboat back again, and go up by the Giant's 
Causeway to Scotland. 

It gives me great pleasure to hear that your health continues 
good. I trust you will not give up your summer tour, which you 
must require after the hard work of the past year. I hope to 
learn by the next letters from home that you have done this. 

Your affectionate son, 

J. M. Warren. 

Edinburgh, Aug. 22, 1834. 
My dear Father, — I wrote last from Liverpool, which I 
left the following day after having made a trip to Manchester, 
seen the Royal Infirmary, and despatched my other business 
there. For a well-conducted institution, one great feature of 
which is neatness, I have seen no hospital to compare with that 
of Liverpool, which I was able to examine very thoroughly 
through the kindness of a friend who had lately been appointed 
surgeon there. The managers have just had another building 
erected expressly for syphilitic patients, so that this unpleasant 
class are almost entirely got rid of. I remember nothing pecu- 
liar in treatment or apparatus at this hospital. In the kitchen 
everything is cooked by steam, and a small engine is constantly 

1 Dr. Warren seems to have kept up to the end of his days the interest in his 
Irish brethren begun at this period, and always to have noticed their progress with 
a watchful eye. In a review of his work on " Fissure of the Soft and Hard Palate," 
which appeared in the " Dublin Quarterly Journal of Medical Science" for Novem- 
ber, 1866, the writer says : " Mr. Warren's acquaintance with Irish surgery might 
be a lesson to many at home who remain habitually ignorant of the doings of 
their brethren." 



196 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

at work pumping water to the different reservoirs in the build- 
ing and for other purposes. 

On my return to Dublin I remained two days to collect my 
luggage, see my friends, etc. I called on Dr. Breen to take 
leave of him. He desired to be particularly remembered to 
you, and much regretted not to have heard from you more fre- 
quently. He has been very polite to me during my stay here, 
and altogether I have seldom experienced more hospitality and 
good-will than during my visit to Dublin. Every one seemed 
to do his best to oblige me without any reserve. 

The cholera, which for the past few weeks has been gradually 
increasing in Dublin, on my last visit there was reported by 
some persons to be as bad as during its presence two years since, 
when over two hundred were admitted daily into the hospitals. 
Dr. Breen told me, however, that this was by no means the fact, 
although the disease was quite as fatal, and many more of the 
upper classes were attacked than before. There are no hos- 
pitals for cholera victims now, and none are admitted into the 
others. The cholera is largely prevalent now in London, 
though it is difficult to say to what extent, as no reports are 
published. Mr. Treat had the kindness to show me over the 
fever hospital, one of the most richly endowed in Dublin. 

I arrived in Edinburgh on the 16th, and on the following day 
delivered my letter of introduction to Liston, who remembered 
my face, though somewhat altered in the course of two years. 
He received me very politely, and I have since been round with 
him daily at his hospital. He explained to me all the impor- 
tant cases. The first day we had the reduction of the dislo- 
cated thumb of a boy, which had been some time in that state. 
By a cord tied round the second joint all the force was applied 
that could be without pulling off the thumb, and this failing, 
the lateral ligament, I think, was divided, and the reduction 
effected. The second case was that of staphyloraphy, which 
he was obliged to defer till later in the day. He asked me to 
be present, but I arrived by mistake only just as he was finish- 
ing. However, he explained to me his method, which differs 
from both that of Lisfranc and that of Roux. Having fresh- 
ened the edges of the palate by running in a sharp guarded 
bistoury at the top and sliding it down on both sides, he then 
passed his ligatures with an eyed hook less curved than that 



SCOTCH SURGERY. 197 

commonly used. For this reason he passes it from without 
inwards. The ligature, having been passed on one side, is seized 
by another hook behind and drawn through double. Then to 
pass it on the other side, a single ligature is tied to the loop of 
the first, this threaded and carried through on the opposite side, 
thus drawing after it the double ligature. When placed, all the 
ligatures are thus double ; but this is of no great consequence 
so long as the rest of the operation is simplified. I examined 
the patient afterwards, and the edges all seemed to be well in 
contact, only a small aperture being left at the top, just above 
the upper ligature, without which I have seldom seen a case 
immediately after the operation. This, I suppose, closes in 
time. 

In cataract Liston prefers depression of the lens. Like Roux, 
he applies a blister to the back of the neck, but just after 
instead of before the operation. To-day I hope to see him per- 
form lithotomy, at which he is very expert. 

Mr. Syme since I was here has been appointed professor of 
surgery, and is now at the Royal Infirmary. I have not yet 
been through his wards, but have called on him and am to dine 
at his house on Saturday. 

Sir George Ballingall, professor of military surgery, I also 
visited yesterday. Two years ago I called on him with my poor 
friend Jackson to make a farewell visit. At that time Jackson 
promised to send him a book on military surgery, and it is rather 
singular that the book was left at his house yesterday without 
any indication of the means by which it came. 

The meeting of learned men is to take place here on the 6th 
of September. Sir Astley is to be here with others. I shall 
return to London immediately after it is over. 

I remain your affectionate son, 

J. M. Warren. 

Edinburgh, Aug. 30, 1834. 

My dear Father, — Since my last letter I have been at- 
tending the hospitals regularly, and have seen one or two very 
good operations by Liston. The most peculiar was that for the 
stone, which he considers one of his best and most original. 

I dined a few days ago with Syme, and met a number of 
pleasant people, among others a son of Dr. Thomson, author 



198 



JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 



of the work on Inflammation, with whom I have since break- 
fasted. The father and two sons, both surgeons, are all in the 
same house. The former has his name in the centre of the 
street door, and the sons on either side. The father has, how- 
ever, mostly relinquished his practice, and passes most of his 
time at his country-seat. After breakfast Dr. Thomson showed 
me a part of the splendid plates which his father has been col- 
lecting for many years. They now number three thousand, the 
greater portion of them drawn by the Doctor himself. He 
showed me those relating to diseases of the urinary organs. 
The pathological state is very beautifully and accurately 
represented, much surpassing even the drawings of Cruveilhier, 
which I have seen at Bailliere's in Paris. 

I have become acquainted with some very pleasant people 
here, and expect to see a number of my friends at the end of 
the next week, who will probably be coming to the meeting on 
the 8th. I shall leave here on the 16th for London. On the 
15th is to be a grand dinner to Lord Grey, given by the citizens 
of Edinburgh in approval of his political course. This will 
probably be the most splendid affair that ever took place in 
Edinburgh, as all the Scotch nobility and many of the English 
are to be present. The cholera I hear is very bad at present in 
Dublin, one hundred and fifty to one hundred and sixty cases 
per day, and many of the most respectable citizens have fallen 
victims. This city has never been more healthy. I shall go 
this week for a few days into the Highlands, and on my return 
stop a day at Glasgow, to look again at the Museum there. 



London, Sept. 22, 1834. 

My dear Father, — I had intended to write you by the 
last packet some account of the proceedings of the British As- 
sociation at Edinburgh, but the occupations of the week were 
so numerous and the hospitality of the citizens so great as to 
leave little time for myself. The members of the Association 
began to assemble three or four days before the 16th, and many 
of them were received into the houses of the most distinguished 
citizens, every facility being afforded them for seeing everything 
worthy of notice in the city. Strangers found all the libraries 
and scientific institutions open to them free of expense ; and as 
soon as I presented myself at the Royal Institution I found 



THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION. 199 

myself enrolled without difficulty a member of the society, and 
tickets given me for various breakfasts, etc., with admission to 
all the picture galleries and museums. It was necessary that 
every stranger should bring an introduction from one of the 
perpetual members of the Association in order to become a 
member. I had neglected to do this, and on being asked who 
introduced me, the secretary immediately stepped up and said 
that he did, although I had not known that he was acquainted 
with me. Among the celebrated men assembled on the occasion 
were Arago, the astronomer royal of France ; Moll, of Utrecht, 
superintendent of the dikes in Holland, with whom I break- 
fasted at Dr. Thomson's ; Brown the naturalist ; the younger 
Ross, who made the expedition to the north pole ; Dalton the 
chemist ; Sir Charles Bell, and other eminent savants. 1 

Of the branch of medicine, Dr. Abercrombie, whose looks I 
liked much, was chosen president, and Dr. Koget secretary. 
Some interesting papers were read by young Dr. Thomson on 
the lymphatics, Sir Charles Bell discoursed on the nerves, and 
Dr. Hodgkin on the mammillated state of the stomach, though 
no very important debates followed. Every evening there was 
a meeting of the Association in the great assembly room in 
George Street, where was a brilliant gathering of ladies, admitted 
by members' tickets. At this meeting papers of general interest 
were read. Dr. Robinson, of Dublin, read an account of the 
comet to appear in 1835 ; Dr. Lardner explained the celebrated 
calculating-machine of Babbage, and another gentleman read an 

1 This meeting of the British Association was the largest and the most enthusi- 
astic yet held by the society, and was noted for the number and distinction of the 
savants present. Among these Agassiz, then only in his twenty-seventh year, made 
his first public advent on the scientific arena, and before an audience but little 
disposed to take any statement on trust. Rich in the commendation of a manly 
and genial presence, with a noble simplicity and a fine Alpine flavor about him, he 
poured forth the revelations of the antique world, like the apostle of a new evangel. 
The flow of his fervid words, quickened by a fire from the heart of things, like 
" that large utterance of the early gods," inspired his tongue with irresistible persua- 
sion, and won conviction from those to whom Truth was all in all, and who knew 
that from her presentment there was no appeal. 

" I met you first at Edinburgh in 1834," wrote the venerable Professor Sedg- 
wick in 1871. "It is a great pleasure to me, my dear friend, to see again by the 
vision of memory that fine youthful person, that benevolent face, and to hear again, 
as it were, the cheerful ring of the sweet and powerful voice by which you made 
the old Scotchmen start and stare, while you were bringing to life again the fishes 
of their old red sandstone." 



200 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

interesting paper on geology. After this paper was read there 
was a promenade, with refreshments ; and this ended the day. 

I think I never experienced a more ample display of hospi- 
tality than during the week of the meeting. I hardly ever 
breakfasted or dined at home, unless when I had some of my 
friends to dine with me, for a fortnight. I was much pleased 
with old Dr. Thomson, and was frequently at his house, where 
many of the strangers were entertained. A gentleman named 
Arnott was also very polite to me. I met at his house Dr. 
Arnott, who wrote a work on physics, and other literary men. 
I likewise breakfasted with Dr. Maclagan, an eminent physician 
here. A Mr. White called on me, supposing it to be you, 
having seen my name on the list of visitors. He said he had 
received much attention from you while on a visit to Boston in 
1816, and desired his best respects to you. He asked me to his 
house, but I had so many other engagements that I was pre- 
vented from going. 

I left Edinburgh directly after the dinner to Earl Grey, an 
account of which I must defer to my next letter, and came 
direct to London. I shall remain here this week and then go to 
the Continent. London is quite deserted at present, a great con- 
trast to the gayeties of three months since. 

Yesterday I went to Mr. Bates's country-seat, about seven 
miles from London, to pass the day. 1 I have met with no wel- 
come more constant or more kind than that of Mr. Bates, and 
there is no man for whose character I have a greater esteem. 
As a merchant he has reached the very summit of success, and 
is respected by all classes of society here. He is still true to his 
countrymen, and does everything in his power to promote their 
interests. His family is a delightful one, and I always meet 
a large circle of Americans at his table. 

In the afternoon we rode over to Richmond Park in one 
of Raynor's gigs, which he has imported, made in the best man- 
ner, and which as a light summer vehicle has been much admired 
here. He has been much pleased with it, but thinks that the 

1 Nov. 15, 1834, Dr. John C. Warren wrote to his son : " Mr. Daly reports 
that you made a speech at Mrs. Bates's breakfast. This pleased me much, as it 
must have been as difficult an occasion for a young man as could well be, and you 
have had few opportunities for extemporaneous speaking. This is simply an affair 
of habit, however. I spoke with difficulty at first. It becomes sensibly more easy 
every year." 



PARIS. 201 

English cabriolet as a comfortable vehicle for the winter is 
preferable. I told him your idea of having one imported, and 
he offered, if I would give him the order, to send you a gig, 
horse, harness, and everything complete, made in a manner best 
suited to your profession. I told him I would write you, and if 
you still thought it an object would be much indebted if he 
would take the trouble. He is the best judge of what would be 
required, and I think if you have not yet furnished yourself there 
could not be a better opportunity. I think it would be advisable 
also to send the horse. Such an animal as the English gig 
horse is seldom seen in our country, and forms quite a distinct 
breed used solely for this purpose. 

Paris, Oct. 5, 1834. 

I arrived here on the 1st of October, as had been my intention. 
Everything seems to be going on well here, the city being 
healthy and free from cholera, which has prevailed more or less 
all over Great Britain. 

. ." . Dupuytren, I am sorry to find, is very ill, probably dan- 
gerously so. His disease is said to be softening of the brain and 
probably disease of the heart, both having no doubt been much 
accelerated by his free mode of living and the violent passions 
to which he occasionally gave way. 

. . . Dieffenbach from Vienna has been here lately, making 
some beautiful noses at the different hospitals. They are said 
to be done in a manner almost incredible. I much regret not to 
have seen the operations. 

I am now living in a hotel and expect to get settled during 
the week. I have not quite determined what course to pursue, 
but think I shall begin with the Venereal Hospital and study 
surgery till January, and then go to Louis when his lectures 
commence. He has just published an answer to Broussais's work, 
which it completely refutes. It is dedicated to Jackson. 

I am very glad to learn that your health continues good, and 
hope it will remain so during the lectures. I think I must de- 
vote a letter to convincing you of the importance of giving up 
practice for a year and breaking up old habits and passing 
a year abroad. I have talked much on this subject with various 
persons here, and have no doubt that the change would add ten 
years to your life. 



202 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Paris, Oct. 14, 1834. 

I have begun my studies at the Venereal Hospital under 
Ricord, and have made an arrangement to attend La Pitie in the 
afternoon and attend to diseases of the chest with my old friend 
Hache, Louis's interne. 

I had an opportunity to see Dieffenbach, who proved to be 
still here, exercise his skill a few days since od two noses, both 
of which he repaired in a very ingenious way. It would be im- 
possible to describe the intricacy of these operations, or the 
complications that arise from cutting, paring, and fitting the 
different parts into place. He works with great perseverance, 
and does not spare pins or ligatures, which are used in a most 
liberal manner. 

When a whole nose is to be made the form is first shaped 
with a piece of sticking-plaster, which is applied to the forehead 
and the skin dissected out, leaving only an attachment of a 
small pedicel between the eyebrows. The incision is extended 
down rather farther on one side of this pedicel than on the 
other, that in twisting the flap round less strangulation may be 
produced in the vessels. This is then nicely sewed and pinned 
down in its place, leaving the pedicel, which forms a little boure- 
let and is divided and fitted in a proper manner after the other 
parts have united. The success depends in a great measure upon 
the after treatment, such as keeping down the inflammation and 
moulding, pulling, and working out the nose into a becoming 
shape. 

Noses are not the only parts which Dieffenbach restores, and 
several of us have applied to him to give us a course of opera- 
tions to illustrate his peculiar skill. We have not yet received 
an answer, though he appeared much flattered by the request. 
I am afraid we shall not succeed, as his stay here is very 
limited. . . . 

Sir Astley Cooper arrived in town a few days since from Lyons. 1 
He is said to pass much of his time dissecting at the H6tel Dieu. 
I called on him yesterday and left my card, though I found it 
impossible to see him from the great number of callers. . . . 

1 " Oct. 8, 1834. — Professor Dieffenbach called, without an introduction, to ask 
me to go to the Hopital de St. Louis with him to see him make two new noses, 
which I declined, as I did not wish to be mentioned in the papers." — Note-book 
of Sir Astley Cooper. 



LISFRANC. 203 

They have a very good arrangement here for stopping a horse 
when disposed to run, in the shape of a double pair of reins. 
Every cab horse is driven with a curb and a snaffle-bit. One 
pair of reins is attached to the snaffle, and with this they are 
usually guided. The other, small and round, is connected with 
the curb and rests on the dasher ready for use, should the animal 
start. I should imagine this to be preferable to the machinery 
which I hear you have attached to your gig, as I fear such an 
impediment would induce a spirited horse to kick himself clear 
of the obstacle. 

Paris, Nov. 22, 1834. 

Coming out of Lisfrane's lecture the other day with Dr. Davis, 
I happened to pass within range of his eyes, and he, having be- 
come well acquainted with my face, as I commonly sit directly 
in front of him, addressed us with "Comment cela-va-t-il ? " 
and further inquired if it was as cold in our part of the world as 
here. As he probably took us for Englishmen, I set him right 
and then seized the opportunity to ask him in regard to the 
operations practised on the mastoid process. I told him of your 
case, and on his inquiring if the patient was deaf, I said I be- 
lieved not. He informed me that he had never done the opera- 
tion himself, and thought it would be useless except in case of 
caries of the part ; also that it was not now performed in France. 
The patient's disease he thought must be nervous, and he should 
treat it by bleeding or locally by blisters. I have seen some 
cases of fever or phthisis with those unpleasant noises which 
seemed to be entirely owing to a nervous affection. You, of 
course, know best the constitution, etc., of your patient. 

I have been looking about this last week for some Chinese and 
other heads which you could use to illustrate a lecture. The 
only ones I can find are in a magnificent work published by the 
Phrenological Society here, consisting of fine lithographic prints 
in folio of all the skulls, both human and comparative, of the 
different nations of the world and of animals, of which work I 
send you the title. 

I still continue to take courses at Lisfrane's in the afternoon. 
Next week I shall commence dissecting with two of the internes 
of La Pitie\ more particularly with reference to surgical anatomy. 
I have not seen any operation since I have been in Europe that 



204 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

could at all compare with yours of the tumor of the neck. They 
seldom perform such delicate operations on this side of the 
Atlantic. They are too fatiguing for the students. 

Paris, Jan. 4, 1835. 

My dear Father, — In entering upon another year I have 
changed my scene of action, and am now at work in Louis's 
ward, where, though the labor is greater, it is at least refreshing 
to see the attention given to the examination and diagnosis of 
disease, so seldom practised by the surgeons here, who seem to 
consider that the all-important matter is the local affection, to 
which all their efforts are directed. Surgery as a science is 
undoubtedly far more advanced in England and America than 
in France, while medicine — as to which we have always flat- 
tered ourselves, under our English instructions, so enlightened, 
laughing in our sleeves at the French system — is now, under 
the efforts of Louis and his followers, emerging from the cloudy 
and theoretical ruts which the English have never dared to 
enter. "Keep the bowels open" appears to be the great point 
in their practice, all other means being accessory. In fact, I have 
myself always been so under the influence of this idea that on 
visiting Edinburgh it struck me as an era in my life when I first 
had the pleasure of seeing old Dr. Hamilton on Purgatives, 
who now walks about in his three-cornered hat, a long-retired 
veteran of the old regime, and no doubt prides himself that 
his ideas, at least in medicine, have stood the test of the progress 
of science in Great Britain. . . . 

The packet of the 8th brought us the President's message, 
which has caused great excitement, both among the Americans 
and the French. War appears to be much discussed. The 
French feel their honor to be called in question by the message, 
and on this account the king yesterday declared in the " Mon- 
iteur " the recall of the ambassador at Washington. Mr. Liv- 
ingston has received his passport and is to leave Paris to-day. 
The king has called a special meeting of the Chambers, having 
something of importance to lay before them. The bill is to be 
brought up to-morrow, to prove, as they say, that they have 
kept their word. If the claims are rejected, war is likely to be 
the inevitable consequence ; and as it is, there are rumors 
to-day that an embargo is to be laid on our commerce in order 



FINAL STUDIES. 205 

to satisfy their wounded honor. We are anxiously awaiting the 
news from Congress and the probability of our being driven 
out of Paris. If any embargo is laid it will be necessary to 
write by way of England, though I doubt much if affairs will 
become so serious. 

Paeis, Jan. 26, 1835. 

The American claims during the past month have occupied 
the greater part of the French journals, and the Government 
has finally put them into the hands of a committee for examina- 
tion. The ministers are using all their influence to have them 
pass, but from what I can learn there is a great disposition in 
the Chamber of Deputies to reject them, the more that some 
one has demanded in the Chamber an explanation from the 
ministry with regard to the Russian claims which it is rumored 
have been lately advanced by a commission from that country. 
Nothing could render our debt more unpopular than by thus 
putting it into comparison with that of the latter government. 
The report of the Chambers will no doubt be deferred as long 
as possible, so that no fear need be entertained of an immediate 
war, at least from this quarter. 

I have ceased dissecting for the last week or two, and am 
now occupied in some of those little practical courses peculiar 
to Paris, which it is desirable to attend to immediately in 
case of war. One of these is on bandaging, by Riban, which 
consists of a lecture, every third day of an hour, on the different 
methods, taken in order, commencing with the simple one for 
any part of the body and followed by the more complicated. 
The intermediate days are employed by the students in applying 
the bandages. Have you seen a work published by Mayor, of 
Lausanne, describing a system of bandaging by handkerchiefs, 
which take the place of the ordinary bandages for all parts of 
the body? These are certainly very ingenious, and may be 
called into use with especial effect when any sudden application 
is required by a surgeon who has no access to the customary 
resources. 

I am also following a course of midwifery with Madame La- 
chappelle 1 in the evening, of which the touches and accouche- 

1 " I remember Madame Lachapelle, — the niece, I think, of her predecessor, the 
great Madame, — as one who taught me more practical midwifery in her private 
course in that department than I learned in three years at the Harvard Medical 
School." — Dr. Henry I. Bowditch. 



206 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

ments are the most important parts. I am moreover following 
up Sichel's consultations during the day for diseases of the eye. 
He pursues the German method of refining the division of differ- 
ent diseases almost to infinity, and I desire to examine a little 
into the probability of this method. Hitherto specialties in dis- 
eases have been universally avoided in France, and with the 
exception of a consultation on the eye held by Sanson at the 
Hotel Dieu, no classification has been made till lately. In fol- 
lowing some of the practitioners I have often had occasion to 
verify the justness of a remark in one of your letters, that care 
should be taken in the matter of specialties that general medi- 
cal attainments should not be neglected. In fact, one sees some 
of these men pronouncing a disease rheumatic, catarrhal, scrof- 
ulous, ophthalmic, etc., when you doubt whether they are com- 
petent to give an opinion as to the existence of any one of these 
diseases in other parts of the body, much less when complicated 
in so delicate an organ as the eye. . . . 

Louis's lectures are excellent, and he delivers them with 
much greater facility than he used. He has a large crowd 
following him, which shows that they are beginning to appre- 
ciate him. 

Paris, Feb. 12, 1835. 

I leave Paris in the middle of April, and shall be heartily 
glad when that date arrives, as the time begins to lag a little. 

Paris, Feb. 26, 1835. 

From the contents of your letter I shall be induced to sail by 
the very first part of May for England, and as soon as my 
affairs there are completed. I shall allow nothing to delay my 
departure later than the packet of June 8 from London to 
New York. 

I am just ending a very busy month, in which I shall finish a 
nice course of bandaging, which has more than answered my 
expectations. Included in it were the different methods of 
healing fractures adopted by the French and English surgeons, 
and many very important things in " La Petite Chirurgie." 
This branch of surgery I should think might be taught with 
more care to the rising generation at home. . . . 

My next month will be chiefly occupied in following Roux at 
La Charite and the course of surgical anatomy. I have just 



AMERICAN CLAIMS. 207 

been making an arrangement with M. Denonvilliers, the head 
interne of Lisfranc, just graduated, for a series of surgical ope- 
rations. I have my rooms engaged here till the 16th of April, 
and shall not be able to leave before that time. 

I saw Roux this week perform his own operation of staphy- 
loraphy, which he does beautifully. Though I have written 
you on this subject already once or twice, I commonly find 
something new each time, which in an affair of such delicacy is 
always important. 

Paris, March 22, 1835. 

We are for the present very quiet here, and nothing is 
further from the intentions of the French than to precipitate 
themselves into a war with America. Not only the press but 
the merchants and manufacturers are entirely opposed to such 
action, which is clearly manifested by the urgent petitions sent 
to Paris by the principal manufacturing towns urging the 
payment of the debt. The bill has been referred to a com- 
mittee, who are to report on the 25th of this month, and 
there is every prospect of the claims being paid. The repub- 
lican journals have done all in their power to prevent the 
passage of the bill, more from a desire to attack Louis Phi- 
lippe than from any regard to the merits of the case. A 
very absurd idea is prevalent here, or is urged, whether real 
or affected, that the debt is principally owned by General 
Jackson and Louis Philippe. Your old friend M. Baffos stated 
this to me this morning as undoubted, which I told him was 
ridiculous. 

While visiting the Hospital of the Enfants Malades this morn- 
ing I had a long talk with M. Baffos, who inquired partic- 
ularly after your health and the manner of life you had led the 
last few years. He is a fine-looking healthy gentleman, stout 
and red-cheeked, who seems to have spent a happy life. When 
I spoke of your active career both in and out of the profession, 
he observed that much to his regret he had not lately done the 
same, but had fallen into lazy habits. Nevertheless, I am told 
he keeps a critical eye on everything around him, and as I know 
by experience is a very early visitor at the hospitals. I asked 
for your friend M. Hereau. He is not now in Paris, but is a dis- 
tinguished physician in one of the provincial towns, enjoying the 
patronage of the archbishop, the judges, and probably the town- 



208 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

crier. He wished to know if you had become very stout, which 
appears to be the lot of most of the French physicians, espe- 
cially of those who are not in very active practice. M. BafTos 
has much vivacity and intelligence, and is full of reminiscences 
of the eventful period through which he has passed since he 
last saw you. I promised to call on him before leaving, and he 
intends writing to you. 

Roux, whom I have been attending at La Charite, took his 
leave of that hospital a few days since, and goes to the Hotel 
Dieu to replace Dupuytren. He seemed much affected at leav- 
ing the place where he had so long practised and performed so 
many brilliant operations. He is replaced by Velpeau, who 
moves quietly on and is probably destined for the top of the 
ladder. 1 His introductory lecture, in which he laid down the 
principles that would guide him in his new position, was the most 
replete with the true scientific and professional spirit that I 
have yet met with abroad in this connection. Therapeutics he 
thought, as does Louis, also, in need of complete renovation. 
He dwelt with earnestness on the necessity of studying the 
anatomical relations of surgical diseases, which have been too 
much neglected. If he continues as he has begun, Velpeau will 
undoubtedly be the most useful instructor for students to be 
found here. I have followed him somewhat in his practice, and 
he takes every opportunity to point out and discuss the dis- 
eases which come under his notice at the bedside and to impress 
his ideas on his pupils. Some reform is undoubtedly needed in 
the vague and unsatisfactory way in which the visits of surgeons 
are ordinarily made. . . . 

It gives me great pleasure to hear that you have got so hap- 
pily through with your lectures. I entertain hopes that you 
will be induced to follow the example of Dr. Mott and make a 
tour on this side of the Atlantic, where you will not only en- 
joy the leisure you have so well earned, but many delightful 

1 The sagacity of this remark was justified by the subsequent career of Velpeau, 
who died only five days before the writer thereof. The lustre of his final triumph 
left little to be desired. In an obituary notice which appeared shortly after his 
decease at the age of seventy-two we read : " The name of Velpeau shone forth 
during the last twenty years with unrivalled splendor, embodying, so to say, the 
fame and glory of modern French surgery. Since the days of Dupuytren never 
had the reputation of another French surgeon extended so far and wide, and the 
name of the illustrious professor of La Charite was known and honored wherever 
it was heard." — The Lancet, Aug. 31, 1867. 



LETTER FROM DR. J. C. WARREN. 209 

reminiscences. The undertaking is by no means so difficult as 
would be imagined, but I will leave this subject till my return. 

Paris, April 5. 

I shall sail from Liverpool on the 8th of May, and trust to be 
in New York by the 1st of June if my fates remain propitious. 

Shortly before Dr. Warren left Paris his ever solicitous 
father wrote him as follows : — 

My hope is that you will be here by the end of May, or as 
early in the season as is consistent with the safe passage of the 
Atlantic and the termination of your studies. It is not neces- 
sary for me to remind you that our people love simplicity of 
manners and dress. The first thing on getting home is to ac- 
quire the confidence of the profession by kindness to the younger 
part and deference to the elder, and to show a disposition to 
allow your acquirements to be drawn out rather than to display 
them. Above all, do not neglect a respect for religion and its 
services. 

While on the one hand I would not have you spend any time 
in London unnecessarily, on the other I wish you would obtain 
the best conveyance home, and, if possible, in a vessel which 
does not make you pay for wine whether you have it or not. 
My earnest wish is that on the passage you will wholly abstain 
from wine and stimulants, which are particularly pernicious at 
sea ; also that you will take your food regularly, so as to keep 
yourself in good order. I wish you also to lay out a plan of 
methodical exercise on board ship, and to pass a certain portion 
of the day in arranging your notes and reviving your recollec- 
tions of what you have acquired. It will be a good plan to 
devote some of your time to the study of the languages and to 
natural philosophy. You can read the Greek or Latin Testa- 
ment daily. Weiss advertises a dynometer for lithotrity. Is it 
worth having? I forgot to say that I put in some little tem- 
perance books, the productions of L. M. Sargent. You can 
give them away in London, or keep them for the ship's crew. 

May the Almighty bless and protect you by land and by sea 
and restore you to us in health, is the prayer of 

Your affectionate father, 

J. C. Warren. 

14 



210 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Thus fortified, advised, and encouraged, Dr. Warren 
quitted Paris for London on his way home. As may well 
be inferred, his departure was felt to be a subject for 
the deepest regret by those young members of his own 
profession with whom he had pursued his studies for so 
long a period and to whom he had endeared himself by 
the display of so many of the most attractive qualities. 
Numerous were the tokens of their regard bestowed upon 
him, and fervent their expressions of friendship and long- 
ing for his future prosperity. On the eve of his depar- 
ture a few of his intimate associates gave him a dinner at 
the Trois Freres, and sought to mitigate their sorrow and 
his own by the choicest treasures of its famous cuisine. 
In spite of the shadow of coming separation and the sun- 
dering of cherished ties, the occasion was marked by 
much festivity, and the gloom of the future was bright- 
ened for the moment by the glamour of auld lang syne, 
while some were cheered by the hope of an almost cer- 
tain reunion on the other side of the ocean in their own 
country. 

After a short stay in London that he might take leave 
of the numerous friends, professional and other, who had 
shown him such generous hospitality, he went to Liverpool 
early in May and thence sailed in the packet ship " Bri- 
tannia " for New York, which he reached on Sunday, the 
7th of June, after a passage of twenty-seven days. He 
lost no time in starting for Boston ; and never did son or 
brother receive a more affectionate, a more joyous, or 
a more richly deserved welcome. 1 

1 On this voyage Dr. Warren was one of sixteen passengers, all English or Scotch 
but himself. Among them was Richard Cobden, on his way to our country to see 
if, happily, we might confirm his belief, then just published, that "the government 
of the United States was at this moment the best in the world," and that its citizens 
were " the best people, individually and nationally." 



CHAPTER XII. 

PROFESSIONAL OUTLOOK. — THE BOSTON" OF 1835. — AD- 
VENT IN SOCIETY. PERSONAL TRAITS. TAKES CHARGE 

OF HIS FATHER'S PRACTICE. — SURGICAL CONDITIONS 
AT THIS PERIOD. 

And now began that professional career which for 
thirty-two years was to absorb the full measure of Dr. 
Warren's talents and test to the last degree his endurance, 
both physical and mental. To this main object of his life 
he was always eminently true, nor did it ever fail to en- 
gross the best of his powers, though the strain upon his 
health was often alarming and greatly exhausted his ner- 
vous system. Calmly ignoring every impediment and 
seeming to gain fresh vigor even from weakness, he 
pressed on with unfaltering reliance towards that ample 
achievement which crowned the end of his life, and into 
which it slowly and surely broadened from the beginning. 
The position in which he found himself on his return 
from Europe was peculiar, and wholly different from that 
of the young practitioners about him. It was regarded 
by most as an especially enviable one, and there were few 
that failed to think him far more fortunate than the great 
majority of his associates. It certainly was favorable in 
many respects, and well adapted to bring to the surface 
all his talents and all the manliness of his nature, though 
sundry drawbacks were not wanting, and his patience and 
self-control were often sorely tried to an extent that only 
the more thoughtful could appreciate. Even the reflected 
light of his father's fame was not entirely propitious, while 
the prestige of his foreign studies and his social standing 



212 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

in the centre of a wide circle of relatives and friends, 
which on the one hand made him unusually conspicuous 
and so far aided his progress, on the other drew searching 
attention to the scope of his faculties and acquirements, 
and exposed him to a criticism which was not slow to 
manifest itself when occasion offered. As might have been 
expected, in certain quarters his superior advantages were 
viewed with jealousy, and acted upon his competitors as a 
kind of challenge to offset or surpass them. 

Even the assistance which his father with an eager 
longing for his success very naturally sought to give him 
was in some measure a hindrance, as it exposed him to 
the charge of promotion at the expense of others not less 
deserving than himself. Hence arose still further rancor 
and carping remarks, which little attempt was made to 
conceal, all the more that his father's demeanor was gen- 
erally hard and dictatorial, and the sharp angles of the 
fortiter in re were but scantily draped with the snaviter in 
modo. To tone down the prevailing antipathy so often 
caused by the bearing of this stern and energetic pioneer, 
and to replace it by a feeling of cordial interest and good- 
will, was of itself a work of no little difficulty to the young 
physician ; but it was done, and that thoroughly, though 
it required all his tact and discernment, all that sweet- 
ness of disposition and gentlemanly discipline for which 
he was so noted, to overcome an unfriendliness that might 
have grown into a serious detriment to his prospects. The 
triumph achieved over this and other obstacles that for a 
time shadowed his path was the natural result of qualities 
especially his own, — of a sanguine penetration that en- 
abled him to forecast the future and a hopefulness that 
saw no cloud without a gleam of sunshine, however faint ; 
of a genial kindness of temper, a good-humored manly 
force, and an entire absence of every form of jealousy or 
meanness ; of an enthusiasm that proved stanch to the 
end and an ambition that fully equalled it ; of a profes- 



PKOFESSIONAL DEVOTION. 213 

sional skill and aptitude that were obvious to all; of a 
solidity of character based on well-tried foundations ; of a 
soundness of judgment rarely apparent at such an age, 
and which controlled from afar the complex elements of 
success ; of a fixed resolve to regard the world as a place 
of brightness, of free expansion, of irresistible action, — of 
action, moreover, which should cause him neither fear 
nor shame. 

Dr. Warren with characteristic energy gave himself 
up at once to the large practice which his father's posi- 
tion and influence opened to him, and spared no pains to 
master the numberless details of its daily routine in the 
direction of both medicine and surgery. His foreign ac- 
quirements naturally proved of great value and of imme- 
diate use. To his father they were especially welcome ; 
and the young doctor was thus able to make a substantial 
return for the experience derived from his elder, — experi- 
ence which the young of every profession ordinarily gain 
with such difficulty. His father greatly needed his assist- 
ance, as his labors had become almost unceasing and now 
had begun to make serious inroads upon his strength. 
Everything tended to call forth his ablest efforts, — filial 
affection, his father's example, his own interest, not to 
mention the further stimulus that was excited by the fact 
that he was entering into a lively competition with other 
rising men, eager, talented, ambitious like himself, and 
already well on their way towards that distinction which 
afterwards made them the bright particular stars of their 
profession. He did not disappoint the hopes that he had 
created in those most concerned for his welfare. While 
his abilities enabled him to hold his own and even to 
better expectation, his kindly temperament and persua- 
sive manner won him hosts of admirers, whose increasing 
numbers bore witness to that confidence and esteem 
which, once bestowed, were never withdrawn. Even at 
this critical period he seems not to have had an enemy, 



214 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

and but a short time was needed to make him the beloved 
friend as well as physician of many who had discovered 
that his amiable qualities of heart were fully equalled by 
the dawning signs of professional ability. Such was his 
steady advance that gradually he came to number among 
his patients nearly every family of prominence in the city. 
In the voluminous journals and account-books he left be- 
hind him their names may still be read ; and a lively inter- 
est attaches to them as honorable souvenirs of a long 
career, and as evidences of the esteem and respect which 
was felt for him who recorded them by all the most noted 
persons in social or professional circles. 

It is hardly necessary to observe that not only the as- 
pects of medical and surgical practice at the beginning 
of Dr. Warren's course, but all the conditions of both 
public and private conduct, varied widely from those to 
which the young aspirant in Boston is now accustomed. 
The changes since his day, mostly for the better, have 
been numerous and complete, — so numerous that they 
are realized only when one is suddenly brought face to 
face with them by means of the tongue or the pen of 
keen observers ; so complete that they can be appreciated 
only by those who have enjoyed peculiar facilities for 
studying the manners and customs of a half-century ago 
and a decided aptitude for contrasting the limitations 
that bounded their youth with the wide area of expansion 
open to the young of this time. Yet even in that day 
no man of talent, least of all the subject of this memoir, 
had reason to complain of his restricted surroundings. 
To him the field was a rich one, and he saw plainly 
enough that it would well repay every possible effort for 
its cultivation and enlargement. 

In 1835 Boston had enjoyed its chartered rights as a 
city for only thirteen years, and its population numbered 
but little over sixty-five thousand. Taken as a whole its 
citizens held a rank much above the average for morality 



THE BOSTONIANS. 215 

and intelligence, for thrift, energy, and public spirit. 
They were by no means unconscious of this fact ; and the 
stranger from afar was not likely to remain long in igno- 
rance thereof, as they did not hesitate to assume this as 
an obvious truth too generally admitted to allow of any 
discussion. In this respect they had been richly endowed 
by their fathers, who had never been accustomed to 
reckon humility among the cardinal virtues, until now 
the self-satisfaction of their descendants was as prominent 
as their own full-bottomed wigs had been, and sat as easily 
upon them. 1 As the people were for the most part well 
educated and read much, there was no subject of popular 
concern on which they failed to have views of their own 
or thought themselves incompetent to offer an opinion. 
As they had long been broadly patriotic, they easily iden- 
tified themselves with the well-being of the whole nation. 
Deeply impressed by their creditable past, they liberally 
discounted in their own behalf a future of which they 
were so constituted as to ignore any bounds, while they 
nourished the laurels already acquired with a vigor that 
never ceased. Their grand ideas and lofty aims led them 
to deem nothing beneath their notice in the whole domain 
of human knowledge ; and if in their earnest striving 
they did not succeed in reaching what they sought, it was 
from no lack of energy that it passed beyond their reach, 
and from no lack of ingenious device or originality of 
measures. Drawn more closely together by their con- 
tracted territory and the smallness of their numbers, they 
displayed a consistent unity of purpose which added 
greatly to their strength, while from the same features 
arose a sincerer interest in the well-being of the com- 
munity and a more fruitful recognition of individual 

1 Dr. Joseph Green Cogswell struck the key-note of the general estimate of 
Boston when he wrote, under date of March 8, 1821 : " Boston is not everything I 
wish it to be, but it is really the best place among the great places in our land ; and 
if they would but learn a little modesty there, and not praise themselves quite so 
highly, I should like them still better." 



216 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

merit and capacity than is often encountered in such a 
society. Though the Bostonians of that period did not 
tend to fall away from the great principles that had 
descended to them, these found new forms of expression ; 
and vigorous and independent thought was already dis- 
playing itself through frequent outlets and with results 
which, though doubtless the revival of ancestral fires 
that had always continued to smoulder, had been alto- 
gether unknown to their predecessors. Naturally con- 
servative, they were not at all averse to becoming 
properly and correctly liberal, or even radical, when they 
were once persuaded that this was really in the way of 
progress. In this there were not a few who were already 
showing their readiness to go a great distance, even to a 
complete isolation from former beliefs, though the ma- 
jority of the free-thinking citizens in such matters recalled 
the configuration of their town, which, though nearly an 
island, was not quite cut off from the main-land. As it 
was, there was everywhere prevalent a freedom of thought 
which expanded into wider aims and more eccentric 
shapes of progress, till, in spite of their orthodox antece- 
dents, the fruits that resulted therefrom, though goodly 
in their way, would hardly have been acknowledged by 
the Pilgrims as the legitimate offspring of the seed they 
had so faithfully and persistently sown. 

From that which has been recorded on a former page 
concerning Dr. Warren's manners, dress, and appearance 
at the time of his foreign studies it is easy to infer that 
his advent in Boston was attended with some little excite- 
ment, both in his profession and in society. Apart from 
all other considerations, the mere fact of his long absence 
in Europe caused a degree of importance to be attached 
to him, as in those days few of our countrymen travelled 
abroad compared with the great numbers that now cross 
the Atlantic, and this had been largely increased by the 
reports of his progress that had been brought home by 



APPEARANCE IN SOCIETY. 217 

friends and relatives who had seen him in Paris from time 
to time. The final result, it is safe to say, bettered ex- 
pectation ; and if much had been looked for, much was 
visible even to the least discerning eye. A name for 
professional promise, a handsome person, distingue man- 
ners and a winning address, joined to elegance of cos- 
tume and the piquant guise of novelty, would have done 
much for any young man in any community, and for him 
they drew quick audience and attention. Slender and 
almost frail in form, his face yet wore the ruddy glow of 
health and the lineaments of manly beauty. Erect and 
dignified in his bearing, his deportment revealed a self- 
contained and well-poised self-respect, as of one conscious 
of his position and of a gentlemanly feeling of indepen- 
dence. His eyes, bright, sympathetic, expressive of a 
certain intellectual keenness, seemed the very windows 
of his soul, and in their depths one appeared to detect 
the genuine spirit of sincerity. As he talked with genial 
bonhomie and a nice vein of humor, his hands, white, 
slender, and well proportioned, kept up with a rapid 
movement a running accompaniment that was very 
graphic. His manners were perfect, and attracted uni- 
versal approval. There was nothing of self-assertion in 
his demeanor, and he showed a happy tact in adapting 
himself to all persons as they came before him. To the 
fair sex nothing could exceed his suave and courteous 
deference, and the entire absence of all assumption. 
This was the natural temperament which actuated his 
every word and deed, and one sought in vain the advent 
of anything in the least finical or artificial. His dress, of 
course, had no small share in the impression he made at 
this time ; and there was not one of the various forms of 
elaborate taste and fashion which it presented that did 
not secure its share of observation and assist to round 
out the full understanding of his character. It power- 
fully appealed to the female mind, which is often affected, 



218 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

perhaps unwittingly, by many collateral influences, even 
in so important a matter as the choice of a physician ; 
though, so far as the young doctor himself was concerned, 
nothing could have been further from his thought than 
the use of any insidious aids to success. " Who is that 
fascinating young man in the shining boots ? Pray intro- 
duce him," was the exclamation of a Belinda of that day 
at the first party at which Dr. Warren made his appear- 
ance after his return to Boston. Naturally, the fair one 
indicated him through the most prominent feature of his 
garb, which happened to be a pair of those enamelled 
boots, now so common, but then the last Parisian novelty. 

Under every aspect Dr. Warren was a pronounced 
success with the ladies from the outstart. He was essen- 
tially a ladies' man. He was thoroughly sympathetic 
with the sex. He was a born admirer of beauty, and it 
was an instinct with him to tender promptly his loyal 
allegiance and respect. Chivalrous to the last degree, his 
homage led him to return in kind whatever interest or 
approval he might have excited. 

In society Dr. Warren's many pleasing qualities assured 
him a position that others less liberally endowed often 
sigh in vain to achieve. A natural amiability of char- 
acter and a kindly temperament made him peculiarly 
popular with his own sex, and so did his careful avoidance 
of all claims on his own behalf or irritating self-assertion. 
Considerate in the extreme of the feelings of others, he 
could not bear to give offence, and rather than do this, or 
even to run the risk thereof, he would submit to much 
from those less delicate than himself. The noble sense 
of honor with which his heart was ingrained led him 
often to ignore an apparent slight, and this not from lack 
of spirit, but because he thought it more manly to con- 
trol his feelings and was reluctant to impute intentional 
discourtesy to any one. At times this generous forbear- 
ance caused him absolute suffering, especially when harsh 



PERSONAL TRAITS. 219 

criticism was passed upon his father, as was often the 
case. Even to this he would silently submit rather than 
express the resentment which sorely rankled at his heart. 
Gifted with a ready and instinctive tact, he never lost an 
opportunity to ingratiate himself with those about him. 
The young he was always quick to help ; to the poor and 
humble he displayed a gracious regard ; to the uninter- 
esting he proffered attentions quickened by good-will and 
free from any sense of patronage. Thus richly favored, 
it is not strange that he won golden opinions from all 
sorts of people, toning down many a jealousy, professional 
or other ; dispersing, or at least brightening, many a ris- 
ing cloud ; and frequently diverting impending rivalry 
till finally it developed into a broad and swelling stream 
of friendship. In all his dealings, one should not omit to 
say, he was greatly aided by an ever present sense of 
humor, the rich superfluity of his mental strength, and 
by a faculty for appreciating the droll aspect of things, 
from which came also large solace for his cares, much 
turning of darkness into light, and frequent dissolving of 
sorrow in a hearty laugh. At this age he still possessed 
the temperament of a boy, and found it a blessing. He 
" doffed the world aside and bid it pass," not as lightly 
regarding the duties of his profession, but because he had 
been favored with a cheerful capacity for distilling the 
last drop of pleasure from responsibilities that would have 
borne heavily upon a less sanguine and happy nature. 

At the end of nearly two years from Dr. Warren's re- 
turn his progress had been so great that his father thought 
him amply qualified to take his place while he sought by 
a long tour abroad the rest he so much needed. On the 
5th of June, 1837, he left Boston "with some trouble of 
mind on account of Mason's solitary and responsible situa- 
tion," as his journal records. During his long absence 
the father never ceased to feel the pressure of this anx- 
iety on his son's account, and was ever on the alert to 



220 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

advise and encourage him. His frequent letters showed 
the depth and earnestness of this feeling. Since the lives 
of these two were so closely identified — especially at this 
period — as to make them almost one in unity of purpose, 
lofty aims, and professional devotion, little or no apology 
need here be offered for the insertion of a letter from 
Dr. Warren to his son written shortly before he sailed 
from New York. It goes far to illustrate the character 
of each. 

New York, June 7, 1837. 

My dear Mason, — Although I wrote yesterday I propose 
to give you a word more, before I embark, on your peculiar 
situation. I recollect to have heard it remarked of some one 
as a great proof of talent that he exactly understood his own 
position in the world. Few men have this knowledge, though 
all believe they have it. A correct knowledge of your rela- 
tions to those around you will be the foundation of your suc- 
cess ; a want of this might involve a failure. For a physician 
of your age you have made a considerable advance in practical 
standing. To retain and improve this requires greater efforts 
than ordinary. 

An exact and methodical employment of your time. A cer- 
tain period of it to be devoted to reading, another to writing, 
and another to daily dissection. I would not allow myself much 
light reading. It is not only a loss of valuable time, but it 
weakens our power of reflection. The periods of time not 
passed in the occupations mentioned should be devoted to pa- 
tients, or to friends whose society is profitable and useful. Pass 
as much time with your patients as you can when they are very 
ill. This is the strongest foundation for affection and confi- 
dence. The most successful practitioners have risen on this 
habit. When you require relaxation go into the society of 

friends who will promote your interest. Mr. A , Mr. W , 

the G s, P s, and others may be rendered immensely 

valuable ; while, if neglected, some other may insinuate himself 
between you and them. Merit and skill are necessary, but they 
must be aided by kind attentions, which show that you are 
interested in their happiness. Above all, our relations may be 
made our truest friends. Here I wish to caution you against 



ESSENTIAL SUGGESTIONS. 221 

any irritation from apparent want of confidence on the part of 
patients. This is one of the regular trials of a young practi- 
tioner, — one that he must expect to experience even from the 
lower classes, still more from the higher. Such an expression, 
however it may operate on the feelings, must not be allowed to 
influence the external appearance or conduct ; for the expression 
of such irritation is a fair proof that the want of confidence is 
well founded, since it shows a want of self-command. 

Boston requires a perfectly educated surgeon. You have as 
good or better groundwork for the formation of one than per- 
haps any other person, and the advantages for jouy forming the 
right kind of man are uncommon ; but this formation must be 
your own work, — the result of regular study of books, diseases, 
and dead bodies, — and to the latter there is no end. 

You have a physical defect which may be overcome. It is 
partly the result of want of habit, but principally, I believe, 
arises from the too free use of stimulants. With the induce- 
ments which you have to excel it would certainly be worth a great 
effort to do all in your power to attain the faculties of a perfect 
operator. Great care in food, little or no wine, coffee and tea 
never strong, are privations which will improve your hand and 
your health. 

Such are a few of the suggestions which occur to me as calcu- 
lated to raise you to eminence. Perhaps you will think them 
too many ; but I have no doubt you will judge differently here- 
after, if you think so now. At least you will perceive that I 
can have nothing in view but your interest and the public 
utility. 

At the time of his departure for Europe Dr. Warren 
left his extensive practice, so far as he could, entirely 
to his son, and issued a circular to his patients inform- 
ing them of his plans and of his wishes in this respect. 
Anxious as he was for Mason's interests, he would not 
have done this had he not been entirely and conscien- 
tiously satisfied as to his fitness for this position and his 
ability to meet all demands upon him. The result fully 
justified his confidence. The young surgeon had already 
performed the first successful operation for the restora- 



222 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

tkm of the human nose that had then been completed on 
this side of the Atlantic, and this with a display of skill, 
nerve, and judgment that gave brilliant promise for the 
future, and showed how well he had spent his time in 
Europe under Dupuytren, Cooper, and other chiefs of the 
great art. The position thus attained he was competent 
to keep against all comers ; and no sooner had his father 
departed than he proceeded to fortify and increase it by 
numerous other works of similar difficulty, which proved 
that he had by no means belittled the inherited fame and 
ability bequeathed him by his predecessors. The quali- 
ties he revealed were assuredly of no mean sort. Within 
five years from the beginning of Dr. Warren's profes- 
sional career, he had already devised a new and effective 
method for remedying the deformity known as " fissure 
of hard and soft palate," or staphyloraphy, as it is com- 
monly called by surgeons. This operation, though not 
dangerous, is one of peculiar difficulty, delicacy, and often 
of embarrassment. When successful, there are few opera- 
tions which are attended with more gratifying results to 
the patient or are more satisfactory to the performer. In 
the " New England Quarterly Journal of Medicine and 
Surgery" for April, 1843, Dr. Warren gave a minute de- 
scription of his mode of procedure, and stated that up to 
that time he had had thirteen cases, of which all but one 
had been followed by a complete cure. There is not 
space in this memoir to present any further details in re- 
gard to this subject, but the whole matter is fully set forth 
in Dr. Warren's " Surgical Observations.' 



» i 



1 It is gratifying to know that Dr. Warren's claims to the discovery of this 
method were universally acknowledged both at home and abroad. In the "Dublin 
Quarterly Journal of Medical Science " for November, 1866, one reads : " We hail 
with pleasure this further contribution from the pen of one who has been for a 
quarter of a century the successful operator in the New World on cases of fissured 
palate. Mr. Mason Warren was the first man to recognize the fact that fissures in 
the hard palate were the result rather of misplaced than deficient bone, and to ap- 
ply to their remedy the obvious method of dissecting off the muco-periosteuni 
from either side and uniting its edges at a lower level. In short, he put what may 



SUEGICAL QUALITIES. 223 

It has been truly observed : — 

" While all agree that operations should be avoided when 
possible, the operative branch of surgery must be considered 
as affording an exhibition of high qualities on the part of the 
surgeon. A profound knowledge of anatomy, a thorough ac- 
quaintance with surgical pathology, a clear conception of facts 
suddenly presented, genius ready to meet them, an indomitable 
courage, untiring perseverance, and, above all, a perfect control 
of the mental energies, are not qualities to be lightly esteemed. 
They are in fact — to compare small things with great — simi- 
lar to those required of the commander of an army in bloody 
action." x 

In addition to these characteristics Dr. Warren revealed 
the possession of that rarest of all rare endowments, a 
good judgment, and in this respect was a fine example 
of the aptness of a remark by another light of the 
profession : — 

" The excellence of the practitioner depends far more upon 
good judgment than great learning, and, other things being 
equal, the best practitioner is the man of soundest judgment.' ' 

Under one aspect the truth of these views was then 
more fully tested than now. At that period there were 
no means of producing insensibility in the patient, and 
prompt decision and instant execution were imperatively 
demanded. Life or death waited upon the agile dexterity 
and ready perceptions of the surgeon. Often the situa- 
tion was such as to unman the stoutest soul and strain 
the nerves to the last tension of endurance. The groans, 
the shrieks, the fearful contortions of every muscle, the 

he termed a false ceiling to the mouth. . . . Langenbeck had in 1862 (nineteen 
years after Warren's first publication) put forward an identical process as a new 
invention of his own, apparently in happy ignorance of what Warren had done. 
The readers of this journal are aware that Messrs. L'Estrange and Collis had also 
planned a similar operation somewhere about 1845, without a knowledge of Warren's 
work ; but they have always yielded the palm to Warren, to whom the priority of 
the idea is justly due." 

1 Address of Dr. John C. Warren before the American Medical Association at 
Cincinnati, 1850. 



224 JONATHAN MASON WAKREN. 

tears that could not be regarded, the attempted writh- 
ings of the bound and helpless victim in his agony, the 
sweat, the clutching fingers, the wild appeal to heaven 
for succor or consolation, were all fitted to weaken the 
strongest operator, to benumb his arm, to confuse his 
mental powers, and to paralyze a courage that was above 
all things essential to success. Said Dr. Mott : — 

" The insensibility of the patient is a great convenience to 
the surgeon. How often, when operating in some deep dark 
wound, along the course of some great vein with thin walls, 
alternately distended and flaccid with the vital current, — how 
often have I dreaded that some unfortunate struggle of the 
patient would deviate the knife a little from its proper course, 
and that I, who fain would be the deliverer, should inadvertently 
become the executioner, seeing my patient perish in my hands 
by the most appalling form of death ! Had he been insensible 
I should have felt no alarm." * 

1 Pain and Anaesthetics : an Essay, by Valentine Mott, M.D. 1862. In the 
ante-ether days there were not many patients capable of the heroic pluck and 
stoicism displayed by Dr. Ebenezer Hunt, who went to Boston in 1789 to sub- 
mit himself to an operation for the removal of a cancer in his head. This was 
done by Dr. John Warren. " ' We must bind his hands,' said the Doctor. ' No 
cable in Boston could hold them fast/ rejoined Dr. Hunt ; and with an effort that 
astonished the physicians themselves he quietly laid his head on a pillow and bade 
them begin. The ear was first nearly cut off, though afterwards successfully re- 
placed ; then for thirteen minutes the operation continued, and every stroke of the 
knife, so near the auditory nerve, was like the report of a pistol. Dr. Hunt did not 
flinch in the least, though the sweat poured down his cheeks profusely." 



CHAPTER XIII. 

MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC ESTABLISHMENT. — SECOND TOUR 

ABROAD. UNCERTAIN HEALTH. — DISCOVERT OF ETHER 

AS AN ANESTHETIC. FIRST OPERATION IN PUBLIC. 

DISASTER AT NORWALK. LAST HOURS OF DANIEL 

WEBSTER. 

With Dr. Warren's capacity for drawing happiness 
from every source and his strong family attachments, 
with his appreciation of home comforts, his affectionate 
disposition, and his fondness for the society of the fair 
sex, it will strike no one as remarkable that his successful 
start in life was soon followed by the choice of a com- 
panion for better or worse. The engagement was not a 
long one, and on the 30th of April, 1839, he was married 
to Miss Anna Caspar Crowninshield, youngest daughter 
of the Hon. Benjamin W. Crowninshield, of Boston. The 
ceremony was performed at her father's house by Rev. 
Samuel K. Lothrop, pastor of the church in Brattle 
Square, assisted by Rev. Dr. Stone, of St. Paul's. The 
young couple started for New York and Philadelphia on 
the afternoon of their wedding-day. At the end of a 
fortnight they returned from their tour, and Mr. Crown- 
inshield gave a handsome reception in their honor at his 
residence on the corner of Beacon and Somerset Streets, 
after which they established themselves at No. 29 Pem- 
berton Square, which they continued to occupy for over 
five years. This home of the newly married pair was 
happily destined to be the scene of much enjoyment, such 
as Dr. Warren particularly favored, and of a continued 

15 



226 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

display of that affection which was to smooth his future 
path and thus vindicate the wisdom of his choice. Such 
a union was needed to round out his being into its appro- 
priate fulness and symmetry ; and in the resulting love, 
harmony, and peaceful fruition he experienced the truth 
of that saying of the French which compares a well- 
assorted marriage to a melodious duet. 

During the next five years after his marriage Dr. War- 
ren followed his profession with quiet assiduity. On the 
3d of June, 1841, his mother died, — a cutting sorrow 
which sank deep into his affectionate nature and blighted 
for the time even that happiness which should have come 
from his increasing family and steadily growing reputa- 
tion. In 1841 a daughter was born to him, and in 1842 
the son who now survives him, though a son born in the 
succeeding year died before the end of his second twelve- 
month. Otherwise there was little to record of his life at 
this period. In 1844 his incessant labors began to tell 
upon his health, and he decided to cross the ocean again 
in search of the vigor he had lost. Starting alone, he 
sailed from Boston in the " Acadia " on the 1st of April. 
He remained a fortnight in London, visiting old friends 
and gaining a few new ones with the addition of some 
valuable information. Thence proceeding to Paris, he 
went south to Munich, crossed the Stelvio, returned by 
another pass into Switzerland, and finally again made his 
way to the French capital, where he spent a few days 
and then crossed the Channel to Liverpool via London, 
sailing for Boston on the 4th of August in the same 
vessel in which he had left it. Keaching home much 
refreshed, he gave himself at once to the work that en- 
grossed his energies for the ten years which were to 
ensue before he again saw the opposite shores of the At- 
lantic. During his absence the President and Fellows of 
Harvard University had testified their respect for his 
name and attainments by conferring upon him the hon- 



UNCERTAIN HEALTH. 227 

orary degree of Master of Arts, thus in a measure express- 
ing their regret that fate had denied both him and them 
the mutual benefit and distinction which would have 
accrued from the completion of a course so well begun. 

Despite the saying of Dr. John C. Warren, above 
quoted, that his son had really a strong constitution and 
needed only care and prudence to retain his health, this 
would seem to have been not so much the dictate of 
his deliberate judgment as the heartfelt longing that it 
might eventually prove to be correct notwithstanding 
the ominous signs of weakness which had already made 
themselves apparent, and that at least one among all his 
children might worthily succeed him, might invest him- 
self with his own honors, and confirm the well-earned 
allegiance that had been won by the talents, labors, and 
sacrifices of two generations. Unhappily, though his son, 
61 whose blood was fet from fathers of war-proof," did 
preserve his great name untainted and add not a little to 
his ancestral renown, it was in the face of gradually and 
steadily failing forces that he did so ; and such was his 
father's sorrow that he found at last his only refuge in 
death itself, for even his son's success was but a slight 
indemnity for the pain and suffering that so often at- 
tended him. Dr. Warren did not inherit a strong consti- 
tution, and his whole life from the beginning, with the 
exception perhaps of his first few years abroad, was a 
perpetual and unflinching struggle against pain and de- 
pression, against mental irritation and bodily languor 
almost irresistible. But though often hidden by clouds 
and the tempestuous tossings of a gloomy sea, his star 
was destined to rise and shine ; and the opposing influences 
which would have cast most men deep into the abyss, 
altogether failed to prevent him from mounting higher 
and still higher towards the zenith. Never was more 
resolute bravery displayed than his ; never a greater loy- 
alty to principle. The quickening stimulus of a clear 



228 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

conscience withheld him from any faltering, and sternly 
forbade him to be recreant to the trust reposed in him. 
And such was his life to the end, — a desultory and con- 
trasted record ; at times marked by deep furrows of suf- 
fering silently endured, and often followed by prostration 
against which all his strivings could hardly avail, 1 and 
then again expanding into periods of healthy and well- 
directed energy, when his days flowed on with the glad 
and steady impulse of a fountain suddenly released from 
icy fetters. Of a career thus ordered there is not much 
for a biographer to record ; and little that would stir the 
pulse or excite the imagination. Such vitality as he 
possessed was entirely absorbed by the ever growing de- 
mands of his profession ; and however much he might 
have longed for such distinction as his tastes and talents 
prompted him to attain in other fields, this privilege was 
denied him, and such leisure as he could secure was 
necessarily devoted to much-needed rest. It was in do- 
mestic retirement, surrounded by the quiet joys of home, 
that he mostly sought and enjoyed the relaxation so hon- 
orably earned. 

A likeness of Dr. Warren now preserved by Mrs. War- 
ren, a copy of which is given with this memoir, serves to 
show both the perfection attained by the wonderful in- 
vention of Daguerre within a short period from the first 
vagueness of its reality and the personal aspect of the 
original at the time of his second voyage to Europe. It 
was taken in Paris by a skilful artist named Sabatier-Blot, 

1 It is more than probable that Dr. Warren was largely indebted for this phase of 
his mental temperament to his grandfather, Dr. John Warren. Of him it is recorded 
that "he was liable, particularly in the latter part of his life, to a great depression 
of spirits. He allowed those sources of affliction from which none are exempt to 
make too deep an impression. Yet his disposition was naturally cheerful ; he was 
always fond of social intercourse and always ready to join in social amusements. 
And it was seldom that the presence of a friend could not for a time dispel the 
cloud that hung over his spirits. Still he suffered at times enough to make 
him almost out of love with life, and he more than once declared that he had 
no wish that his life should be long." — American Medical Biography. By James 
Thacher, M.D. 




J. MASON WARREN, M.D. 

FROM A DAGUERREOTYPE TAKEN IN PARIS DURING 1844, 
BY SABATIER-BLOT. 



FIRST OPERATION WITH ETHER. 229 

and its present state is almost exactly the same as when 
it left his hands. The deep lines and somewhat haggard 
expression of the face ; cheeks that had sadly fallen away 
from the ruddy contour of ten years before ; a forehead 
wrinkled and contracted; eyes bordered by those dark 
and sunken circles which, once acquired, were retained to 
the last; and wan features neither relieved nor hidden 
by beard or mustache, — all give painful evidence of ill- 
health, pain, and hard work. 

At a meeting of the Trustees of the Massachusetts Gen- 
eral Hospital held on the 2d day of February, 1846, Dr. 
Warren was chosen one of the six visiting surgeons of 
that institution. This honor, it is needless to say, had 
been thoroughly earned ; and his fitness for the post he 
promptly proceeded to prove by entering upon the duties 
thereof, — duties which, when assumed, he performed with 
conscientious fidelity to the very close of his life. On the 
16th of October in this same year Dr. Warren was pres- 
ent at the first operation on a patient under the influence 
of ether, or "Morton's Letheon," as it was termed by 
some. This was done by his father, and it formed an 
epoch in the annals of surgery which will never be for- 
gotten so long as humanity is still subject to pain and 
mutilation. 1 At that time there were few or none who 
comprehended the full grandeur of this extraordinary dis- 
covery or the wide range of its ultimate beneficence. 
Even the principal agents in its introduction to the notice 
of the profession were for a time awestruck at the possi- 

1 Long after the verification of this famous discovery Dr. Jacob Bigelow did 
well-merited justice to the sagacious trust and intrepidity of character required to 
exemplify it to the world and thus assume the grave responsibility of possible 
failure. "It is not wonderful that in the designs of Providence medicinal agents 
should exist, capable of averting pain by the suspension of sensibility. But the 
wonder is that after mankind had borne pain ever since the creation of their race, 
any person should be found of sufficient courage and strength of conviction to put 
through the untried and formidable experiments necessary to decide whether life 
would continue under the inhalation of a scarce respirable vapor, carried to such 
an extent as to destroy sensibility and produce apparent death." — Medical arid Sur- 
gical Journal, Nov. 25, 1869. 



230 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

bilities revealed to them, and hesitated before the dangers 
— how serious they knew not — that might follow from its 
use. While acknowledging the present and indisputable 
effects of a powerful anaesthetic, their own judgment and 
learning taught them that a twofold influence might at- 
tend its workings, and that the alleviation of the moment 
might be dearly bought by decay of mind or body which 
would last for a lifetime. 

A few days after the first great test Dr. John C. War- 
ren gave certain results of operations performed by him, 
mostly satisfactory, and adds : — 

"I think it quite probable that so powerful an agent may 
sometimes produce other and even alarming effects. I would 
therefore recommend that it should never be employed except 
under the inspection of a judicious and competent person. . . . 
It may become a valuable agent in the hands of careful and well- 
instructed practitioners, even if it should not prove of such gen- 
eral application as the imagination of sanguine persons would 
lead them to anticipate." 

There were not many at first who had the temerity to 
run so great a risk as the unlimited use of ether would 
have inferred, and those who might have done so would 
have laid themselves open to charges of rashness and 
presumption, which not even all the blessings that have 
ensued from its discovery would have justified or effaced. 
Naturally conservative, like his father, endowed with a 
judgment cool and sound and not at all prone to hasty 
conclusions, Dr. Warren at first felt his way cautiously in 
this matter. Gladly welcoming this boon to tortured 
humanity, — if it should turn out to be such, — he was 
yet well aware that at any moment, in spite of hopeful 
appearances, pernicious effects might declare themselves 
and cast a gloomy shadow over the prospect. Eager to 
test its real merits, he proceeded to employ the anaesthetic 
as often as he dared ; and as he did so, he made frequent 
studies and minute observations on its effects. The 



FIRST PRIVATE USE OF ETHER. 231 

results of these he published in the " Medical and Surgical 
Journal " on March 24 of the following year. As Dr. 
Warren has devoted the concluding chapter of his " Sur- 
gical Observations" to "Anaesthetics/' and has given 
therein a detailed account of his connection with the first 
discovery and application of ether and his subsequent 
experiences of its effects, it would be superfluous to en- 
large upon the subject in this memoir. Suffice it to state 
that on the 12th of November, 1846, he performed the 
first successful operation under ether which was done in 
private practice, and on the 15th of the next month he 
treated the first child l that had thus far been subjected 
to surgical attention under the same conditions. Subse- 
quently Dr. Warren in connection with his father adopted 
the use of chloric ether in place of ether, though they 
both finally returned to the first-named anaesthetic and 
employed it to the end of their lives. Its superiority 
had been thoroughly established up to the year of Dr. 
Warren's death by over twenty thousand successful 
instances of its use at the Massachusetts General Hospital 
alone. 2 

1 This child, aged twelve, was the son of Mr. Moses P. Ives, of Providence, and 
afterwards became the husband of Miss Motley, daughter of the historian, and 
wife of the present Sir William Vernon-Harcourt. 

2 The clang of the fierce dissension in regard to the actual discoverer of the 
anaesthetic use of ether which quickly followed its triumphant revelation to the 
world is still fresh in the ears of many, and, in truth, its echoes even yet have 
hardly died away. Rarely has the fierceness of professional partisanship, of civic 
jealousy, of foreign assumption, been more fully illustrated ; and it can be realized 
by none save those who lived at that time and were often driven perforce to take a 
leading part in the conflict. Those who, sensible of great rights in peril and of 
great possible wrongs, earnest in behalf of justice and carried away by the pre- 
vailing excitement, dashed into the arena amid the madly contending parties, — 
these alone can tell of the passionate violence and persistency of the onset, of the 
dexterous thrusts given and returned, of the harshness of bitter abuse and 
recrimination. 

Though Dr. Warren bore himself with no aggressive mien through all this con- 
test, none the less was he firm in his defence of Dr. Morton, as the Columbus of 
this new and painless realm. Like his father, he ever asserted Dr. Morton's 
claims, and with him he signed the petition addressed to Congress in 1857, over 
ten years after the discovery of etherization, by all the trustees and surgeons of 
the Massachusetts General Hospital, in which they testified " that in their opinion 



232 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

On the 23d of October, 1846, Dr. Warren completed 
his novitiate at the hospital by performing his first public 
operation, the dangerous and difficult one of tying the 
carotid artery. 1 It was in every sense an embarrassing 
ordeal, the terrors of which doubtless none are com- 
petent to appreciate but those who have been exposed to 
them. For a surgeon comparatively young the trial was 
the more severe from the fact that nothing was used to 
deaden the pain of the patient, as the employment of 
ether had not then been authorized by the authorities of 
the hospital. In spite of every obstacle Dr. Warren 
passed happily through the operation, and his success both 
gratified his father extremely and gave abundant promise 
for his future advancement. 

The next ten years of Dr. Warren's life were marked 
chiefly by the ordinary routine of his profession and by a 
solidly advancing reputation. During his residence in 
Pemberton Square two sons and a daughter had been 
born to him, while at No. 6 Park Street, to which he had 
removed in 1844, four other children had been added to 
his family. These gave him a stronger and stronger hold on 
life, and drew forth with ever increasing fervor his charac- 

Dr. William T. G. Morton first proved to the world that ether would produce 
insensibility to the pain of surgical operations, and that it could be used with 
safety," and therefore asked for " a recognition of his services." This view Dr. 
Warren never abandoned, and he quite agreed with the sentiments expressed by 
his friend N. I. Bowditch, in his " Vindication of the Hospital Report," when he 
wrote : " But whatever may have been Dr. Morton's deficiencies or his mistakes, 
I feel certain that to him the world owes this discovery. Should posterity ever 
erect a commemorative statue, I believe that it will be inscribed with his name." 
As Dr. Jacob Bigelow wrote in 1870, " He was not a man of much cultivation or 
science; but like the pioneers who have penetrated the Arctic regions and the 
deserts of Africa, he had a hardihood and tenacity of purpose which carried him 
where more cautious and perhaps better instructed men had failed to advance. As 
far as we know, he is the only man, without whom anassthetic inhalation might have 
remained unknown to the present day." 

1 Dr. Warren had already performed with complete success the operation of lig- 
ature of both carotid arteries, — a much more searching test of skill, nerve, and 
judgment than the one above mentioned. It was done for a patient of his own m 
October, 1845, and a minute description thereof appears in Dr. Warren's " Surgical 
Observations." This is well worth perusal by any one interested in the triumphs 
of surgery. 



NORWALK. 233 

teristic wealth of affection. In the joys and duties of home 
he ever found a delight that was followed by no pang of 
sorrow or regret. For the fashionable circles of Boston, 
u formal, heartless, conventional in manners and preten- 
sions," as Judge Story fitly described them in a letter 
written shortly before this time, Dr. Warren cared but 
little. He held them at their real worth, and by his 
own hearth sought and obtained pleasures such as his 
taste and conscience commended to him as durable and 
genuine. 

On the 30th of April, 1853, Dr. Warren went to New 
York for the purpose of attending the American Medical 
Convention as delegate from the Massachusetts General 
Hospital. With him were Mrs. Warren, his son Collins, 
and his nephew Benjamin Mifflin. Nothing that calls 
for especial mention occurred at that gathering, and on 
the 6th of May he started for Boston. By great and 
exceptional good fortune he and his family were destined 
to reach the end of their journey alive, but it was their 
lot to witness one of the most appalling disasters that 
have ever been recorded in the annals of travel, — the 
terrible accident at Norwalk, which caused the sudden 
death of over sixty persons, and of which even at this 
day the mere mention excites an irrepressible shudder. 1 

Shortly after his return Dr. Warren recorded in his 
journal the bitter experiences of this melancholy day in 
plain and graphic words. They are here given as a 
simple narrative of a casualty which will always awaken 
a tragic interest not to be increased by any powers of 
rhetorical description, — a narrative which, simple as it 

1 Luckily for the peace of mind of Dr. Warren's numerous relatives and friends, 
they were not compelled to remain long in suspense as to his safety, for his pres- 
ervation was stated in the very first papers issued after the news had readied Bos- 
ton. " Frightful and Fatal Railroad Accident ! The cars thrown off the bridge 
at Norwalk ! Twenty persons killed ! Dr. Warren and others from Boston safe." 
Such was the announcement which, while it gave rise to a sharp pang of sorrow 
in the hearts of all, was followed by a thrill of devout gratitude in not a few. 



234 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

is, is quickened into a stern and vivid impressiveness by 
the writer's participation in that which it describes. 

" On Friday we left for home, taking the New Haven ears in 
Canal Street at a quarter before eight. 'As the first car was full 
we took the second, and occupied the eighth row of seats from 
the door, which Mrs. Warren preferred from the fact of there 
being a woman and child in front, though I had always been in 
the habit of securing the first. At Twenty-seventh Street an- 
oiiier car was added between ours and the engine. At Stan- 
ford I stepped out for a few minutes, and saw Dr. Bartlett, of 
Boston, who had been in the next car to ours, but finding it too 
cold he joined us. Just after passing the station at Norwalk, forty 
miles from New York, I suddenly felt a convulsive crack, im- 
mediately followed by the disruption of the train in front of us. 
Our carriage was at once lifted up from the rails and struck the 
one before it, the forward half being knocked into splinters. I 
expected instant death, as I saw everything in front of us, 
up to the very seats on which we were sitting — cars, passen- 
gers, and all — plunge headlong into the water and disappear. 
Having dragged Mrs. Warren and the children up into the rear 
of the car which so happily for us had remained on the track, 
I made my escape with them on to the bridge behind, with the 
loss of nothing but my hat. 

" Through the recklessness of the engineer, the speed of the 
train had not been slackened on approaching the bridge ; and as 
this was open for the passage of a steamer, we were doomed to 
become the victims of his folly. Dr. Peirson, of Salem, I found 
among the dead ; Dr. Lamb, of Lawrence, had his nose badly 
broken ; while Dr. Ives, of New Haven, and Dr. Bemis, of 
Boston, were injured. Of all those who were plunged into the 
water with that part of the train which went down, the only 
person saved was Miss Griswold, daughter of the Rev. Dr. 
Griswold, of New York, who was resuscitated after two hours' 
constant exertion on my part. 

" We arrived in Boston about one o'clock. Never has there 
been known a greater excitement than that caused by the oc- 
currence of this dreadful tragedy. In Boston the whole town 
were in a state of distress until they could learn who were 
among the dead and who among the living." 



ARDUOUS EFFORTS. 235 

Ten days later, Dr. Warren returned to the scene of 
the accident with Mrs. Warren. His journal goes on to 
state that — 

" The weather was very warm, like the middle of July, and 
we slept with the window of our parlor open. We saw the 
broken car in which we were at the time of the accident. The 
back half of it had been brought down to New Haven from 
Norwalk. The engine was there also, hardly injured. The 
baggage-room was full of clothing from the broken trunks, — 
crushed hats and bonnets, shawls, boots, umbrellas, books, en- 
gravings, etc. Our trunk was not to be seen, though we recog- 
nized a jacket belonging to Bennie Mifflin, attached to a piece of 
twine which Mrs. Warren had with her at the time ; the trunk, 
however, was subsequently discovered in the baggage-room at 
New York, and had probably not been put on the train." 

This account of the Norwalk tragedy from Dr. Warren's 
pen is certainly incomplete in one respect, since it hardly 
mentions any of the efforts he made during several hours 
to minister to the needs of the survivors, and to bring 
something like organized efficiency to bear upon the 
frightful and chaotic confusion that came close upon the 
disaster. Bareheaded and almost stunned by the peril 
from which he had barely escaped, he wrought on and 
on, lending a helping hand wherever he saw any possible 
need of his skill and experience. Thoughtless of expo- 
sure, of hunger, thirst, heat, or bodily fatigue, he contin- 
ued his arduous labors until the arrival of other aid and 
his own exhaustion rendered his retirement both justi- 
fiable and imperative. He chiefly directed his attention 
to Miss Griswold, who, though soon drawn up from the 
wreck, had been under the water long enough to quench 
almost entirely the vital spark. To his persevering 
efforts she owed her life, and never was the miracle of 
the resurrection more closely repeated. For over two 
hours she lay as one dead, and for over two hours did her 
preserver labor over her and refuse to surrender to Death 



236 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

the prey he had so nearly made his own. His judicious 
and incessant remedies gradually expanded the infinitesi- 
mal remnants of life into confirmed action, and Miss Gris- 
wold was finally taken to her home, though in a state of 
such utter prostration that for three months she was un- 
able to leave her bed. The sole survivor of those who 
were hurled over the precipice, she lived for years to 
bear witness not only to the happiness of her deliverance, 
but to the wonderful skill and gallantry which had wrested 
her from the grave. 

Unfortunately, though Dr. Warren escaped for the time 
apparently unharmed, there is some reason to believe 
that he never fully recovered from the consequences of 
that trying day, but that the harsh shock to his nerves, 
with the subsequent exposure, labor, and excitement, 
seriously increased that mental and bodily debility of 
which he was already a victim and from which he was 
afterwards a far greater sufferer. Experience has shown 
that the effects of a railroad accident often fail to be 
appreciated to their full extent by those who have taken 
part in it until some time after its occurrence, and it 
has been thought that such may have been the case 
with Dr. Warren. It is a result that might well have 
followed from a strain so unwonted and severe upon a 
nervous system far from strong, and a constitution 
which could be kept in order only by incessant care 
and the avoidance of every disturbing influence. To the 
derangement of the whole system arising from such a 
shock might naturally be attributed many strange and 
mysterious symptoms to which Dr. Warren was subject 
for years after this accident, and for which it would be 
difficult to account on any other hypothesis. In a note 
from Dr. Henry I. Bowditch, which hereafter will be 
given in full, he says : — 

" I look back now with poignant regret at the thought that 
what I supposed was the result of a partial weakness of mind 



LAST HOURS OF WEBSTER. 237 

and of hypochondriasis was in reality only a desire to save him- 
self from excruciating pains incident to that fatal complaint 
which finally caused his death after years of suffering." 

Among all the cases and operations of which Dr. War- 
ren left such voluminous records in his day-books none is 
more interesting than his account of the last hours of 
Daniel Webster. That he should have witnessed these 
was eminently fitting. Of Dr. John C. Warren the great 
statesman had long been an intimate friend, and mutual 
sympathy and admiration had gradually developed an 
attachment which ceased not to burn with ever increasing 
fervor to the very end. 1 This friendship for the father 
Mr. Webster had gladly continued to the son ; and when 
he became conscious of the approach of that mortality 
which draws us all towards one common end, he gladly 
welcomed the suggestion that Dr. Warren should be sum- 
moned to his bedside in aid of the older physician who 
had been his more especial attendant for years. 2 The 

1 The following letter, which was addressed to Dr. John C. Warren in 1838, 
is of interest in this connection. It is equally creditable both to writer and 
recipient. 

My dear Sir, — I must not leave home without thanking you for your letter of the 
8th. Not only have I the profoundest regard for your professional knowledge and ability, 
but we have always agreed so well in almost all things, I have liked your conversation 
and company so much, and you now express yourself with so much kindness towards me, 
that I must give myself the gratification of expressing to you my most grateful feelings, 
and of assuring you that I reciprocate all your regard and good wishes. You greatly over- 
rate my importance to anybody except my family; but that is owing to the warmth of your 
friendship. I wish I was as sure of doing good for the rest of my life as you are. The 
efforts and labors of political men, however well intended, are uncertain, as well in their 
effects as in their rewards. But your labors cannot fail of either. While you relieve dis- 
tress, heal the sick, and disseminate widely that knowledge which years of study and prac- 
tice have given you, you are sure that you are doing good, and rewards of all kinds will not 
fail you. May you long live, my dear sir, as useful, as happy, as much beloved by your 
friends, as you now are. I can wish you nothing better in this world. 

Yours as ever, 

Daniel Webster. 

2 Mr. Webster's regular physician was Dr. John Jeffries, though he had been 
accustomed during the latter part of his life to consult Dr. Mason Warren at inter- 
vals, notably after that fearful accident at Kingston, when he was thrown headlong 
from his carriage, — a narrow escape, of which he bore the marks to the grave. 

Mr. Hillard, in his relation of the circumstances attending Mr. Webster's last 
hours, writes that he said to Dr. Jeffries : " ' Doctor, you have carried me through 



238 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

record here given derives an additional value from the 
fact that it was written but a few hours after Mr. Web- 
ster's death, while the facts were fresh and clear in the 
writer's mind, and with the design of presenting nothing 
but an impartial and accurate description of the event. 
It is now presented in full for the first time, though a 
portion of it was communicated by Dr. Warren to Mr. 
George T. Curtis, one of Mr. Webster's literary executors, 
and was subsequently employed by him in preparing his 
life of the great orator. 

" I arrived at Marshfield on Saturday evening the 23d of 
October [1852] at about half-past seven, Mr. Webster having 
requested in the morning that I should be sent for. I saw him 
first at eight o'clock, not having seen him before since the spring, 
when I was called to visit him at Mr. Paige's on his return from 
Marshfield after the injury he had received at Kingston. On 
my name being mentioned he turned his face and fixed his eyes 
upon me and held out his hand. He answered with clearness 
the questions I proposed, though these were few from the fear I 
had of disturbing him and causing a recurrence of the vomiting 
which had troubled him at intervals throughout the day. I 
stood for some time watching him, and was much struck with 
the change that had taken place in his appearance since the time 
above alluded to. His complexion was quite sallow ; the eyes 
sunk in the sockets and when at rest turned up in the head, 
indicating a great degree of prostration. His whole body looked 
smaller, and he was evidently greatly emaciated. 

" His motions were very difficult, and he required almost a 
constant change of position from one side of the bed to the 
other. In about half an hour from the time I entered the room, 
and after that interval of rest, he suddenly reached out his hand 
and begged me to lift him up in bed. This, with assistance, 

the night. I think you will get me through the day. I shall die to-night/ The 
faithful physician, much moved, said after a pause, ' You are right, sir.' Mr. 
Webster then went on : 'I wish you therefore to send an express to Boston for 
some younger person to be with you. 1 shall die to-night. You are exhausted and 
must be relieved. Who shall it be 1 ' Dr. Jeffries suggested a professional brother, 
Dr. J. Mason Warren, adding that he was the son of an old and faithful friend of 
Mr. Webster. Mr. Webster replied instantly, ' Let him be sent for.' " — A Memorial 
of Daniel Webster from the City of Boston. 



Webster's decease. 239 

was at once done, when without any great effort he vomited, or 
rather seemed to raise from his stomach a large mass of clotted 
blood. He immediately exclaimed, i I feel as if I were going to 
sink right away. Am I dying ? ' We assured him that he was 
only faint, and having placed him back on the pillow, adminis- 
tered a little stimulus, which soon revived him, and restored 
the circulation. At this time, and from the moment I entered 
the room, I observed a clammy color to his hands. The pulse 
at intervals was scarcely perceptible, and in fact, had I not 
judged from other symptoms, I should have inferred from the 
state of the pulse that he could not have survived half an hour. 
This great tenacity of life, and the very gradual giving way of 
the vital organs, I have never witnessed in any other case. 

" He now fell into a kind of doze, occasionally arousing him- 
self, and demanding something to strengthen him, saying, ' Give 
me life, give me life.' Apparently fearing that he should fall 
into a condition in which he would be unable to realize the 
change from one form of existence to another, he proposed 
various questions, such as, ' Am I alive or dead ? ' and others 
similar to this, and seemed satisfied with the answers that were 
given, after repeating them in different shapes. Later in the 
evening he said something in which the word ' poetry ' was dis- 
tinctly heard ; and the whole room was hushed, and he seemed 
gratified and attentive while his son read portions of Gray's 
Elegy. Between twelve and one o'clock he gradually became 
more quiet, and ceased to ask questions ; his breathing became 
heavier, as of a person in a sound sleep, and his pulse could 
hardly be felt at the wrist. The only movement he made was 
to raise his hand and place it on the top of his head, which he 
did repeatedly. Even at this period he also made a motion 
with his lips, as if craving liquids, and took what was given 
him in a spoon, as one would do when still conscious. 

" Respiration now became more difficult, and was accompanied 
by a slight blowing motion of the lips, which is observed in the 
last stages of life. His son was now told that his father's end 
was approaching, and entered the room. Very shortly after this 
the breathing stopped, then was resumed again after perhaps a 
quarter of a minute, and this final straggle was prolonged in a 
way that I have never before noticed. Once or twice we 
thought he had breathed his last, when respiration again re- 



240 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

turned. At last a slight convulsive action passed over the face, 
all the muscles appeared strongly contracted, and the whole 
face turned almost black. This was the concluding effort of 
life, and was at once followed by a relaxation and entire calm 
of the features. He died lying on his right side in a rather 
constrained position, as for an hour before we had avoided 
doing anything that might disturb him. With the help of 
those present I now had him placed in the middle of the bed, 
and closed his eyes. 

" During the evening his room was quite full of friends and 
relatives, who watched every motion and were ready to admin- 
ister to every want. One or two of his favorite black domes- 
tics were also present, and took the most intense interest in all 
that was going on. I particularly noticed an old woman — his 
cook, I believe, called ' Monica ' — who was incessantly moving 
about in great agitation, approaching his bedside, looking at 
him and holding up her hands, muttering bits of prayer to her- 
self, with occasional exclamations, such as 4 God bless me ! ' and 
others, taking but little notice of those around her. Once or 
twice, however, she addressed herself to me, and inquired, 
1 Is n't he going to die ? ' and 4 Why don't he die ? ' and ' You 
don't think he '11 live till morning ? ' apparently laboring under 
the impression that I had an agency in prolonging his sufferings. 
This woman, I understand, was formerly a slave, and was set 
free by Mr. Webster. She was warmly attached to him, as in 
truth were all his servants." 

Dr. Warren remained at Marshfield long enough to 
assist at the autopsy, which was made by Dr. J. B. S. 
Jackson. The cranial capacity proved to be the largest 
that had then been recorded ; and the weight of the brain, 
which was 63J ounces, was most extraordinary, being 
greater than any yet known except that of Cuvier, which 
exceeded it by only half an ounce. Dr. Warren also 
embalmed the body by the injection of arsenic, and in 
1866 was much pleased to learn that the remains had 
shown no signs of decay. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THIRD TOUR IN EUROPE. — DR. RICHARD WARREN. — FAILING 
HEALTH. — AGAIN CROSSES THE OCEAN. — DEATH OF DR. 
JOHN C. WARREN AND HIS LAST MESSAGE. — RETURN TO 
PRACTICE. 

After nearly ten years of arduous labor, steadily pur- 
sued in spite of failing health and a strength that would 
slowly decrease notwithstanding the pressure of a master- 
ful will, Dr. Warren decided to seek a few months' rest 
in Europe. Never was rest more imperatively demanded. 
On the 24th of May, in the year 1854, he sailed from 
Boston in the " Europa " for Liverpool with his wife and 
son. After a passage of only ten days he reached his desti- 
nation with little discomfort to himself or those about him. 
Soon after this he was in London, and occupied with a 
busy round of engagements, visiting hospitals, museums, 
and other institutions of especial interest. From many 
professional men of the highest repute he received abun- 
dant civilities, none the less that they retained lively rec- 
ollections both of himself and of his father. Sir William 
Lawrence, Mr. Owen, Mr. Waterhouse, of the British 
Museum, and numerous others tendered to him and his 
family the most courteous hospitalities. His ancestral 
sympathies were never out of his mind even in the midst 
of all these engrossing occupations. " Yesterday," he 
records in his journal, " we went through Westminster 
Abbey. I noticed a monument there to Sir Peter Warren ; 
also to John Warren, Bishop of Bangor." 1 The clubs 

1 The Bishop of Bangor was the younger brother of a physician who gained 
peculiar fame in both medical and political annals during the latter half of the last 

16 



242 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

were freely opened to him. He dined with Dr. Shaw, at 
the Keform Club. Early in July he went to Paris, where 

century. This was Dr. Richard Warren, — a name familiar to New Englanders as 
borne by the only Warren among the passengers by the "Mayflower" on her first voy- 
age. He was born in 1731 and died in 1797, leaving a widow (whose maiden name was 
Elizabeth Shaw, the daughter of Dr. Peter Shaw, an eminent London physician), 
and ten children, to whom he bequeathed £150,000, all the fruits of his own talents 
and industry and an enormous sum for that day. During the last years of his life 
his income amounted to £8,000 per annum. Wraxall calls him " in every sense the 
leader of the medical profession " of his time, and he had the honor of being termed 
by Burke, during a fiery and famous debate with Pitt, in the House of Commons, 
" the first physician in England." It was his fortune as " physician in ordinary to 
his Majesty " to have the principal care of George III., at the time of his insanity 
in 1788. His professional opinion as to his Majesty's actual condition was one of 
the causes which led the Whigs to contest the Regency question so strenuously, 
and produced a political tempest that shook the country to its centre. He was 
offered a baronetcy, which he declined, though he was so far honored in this 
respect as to be saluted on one of his visits to the insane monarch with the 
peculiar title of " Ricardensus Warrenensus, baronetensus." His portrait by Gains- 
borough is the chef-d'oeuvre of the collection now belonging to the Royal College of 
Physicians, of which he was a Fellow and an Elect. He was succeeded in his pro- 
fessional name and fame by his ninth son, Dr. Pelham Warren, who was one of the 
most distinguished practitioners in London at the time of Dr. Mason Warren's 
first visit to that city. The name of Warren, it will thus be seen, had then been 
conspicuous in the profession in England for the better part of a century. 

Pew physicians have enjoyed a more prosperous or a more brilliant career, or 
have been held in greater respect by their professional contemporaries, than Dr. 
Richard Warren. In Munk's " Roll of the Royal College of Physicians," we 
read: "To a sound judgment and deep observation of men and things, Dr. 
Warren added various literary and scientific attainments, which were most advan- 
tageously displayed by a natural talent for conversation that was at once elegant, 
easy, and natural. Of all men in the world he had the greatest flexibility of temper, 
instantaneously accommodating himself to the tone of feeling of the young, the old, 
the gay, the sorrowful. But he was himself of a very cheerful disposition, and his 
manner being peculiarly pleasing to others, he possessed over the minds of his 
patients the most absolute control ; and it was said with truth that no one ever had 
recourse to his advice as a physician who did not remain desirous of gaining his 
friendship and enjoying his society as a companion. In interrogating the patient 
he was apt and adroit ; in the resources of his art, quick and inexhaustible ; and 
when the malady was beyond the reach of his skill, the minds of the sick were 
consoled by his conversation, and their cares, anxieties, and fears soothed by his 
presence." 

In the year 1800, when delivering the Harveian oration, Sir Henry Halford, the 
illustrious confrere of Dr. Richard Warren, paid a long and well-deserved tribute to his 
many talents and virtues, and in eloquent Latin acknowledged the indebtedness of 
the profession to his bright example. 

This somewhat lengthy reference to Dr. Richard Warren is given, partly from 
the numerous points of resemblance between him and the subject of this memoir 
and partly to show that the elements of success in the medical profession are every- 
where and invariably the same. 



THE GRAND ROUND. 243 

some weeks were spent, the weather being " excessively 
hot." July 23d he writes, "I continue to get hold of 
some medical information every day at least." From 
Civiale he received the kind attentions invariably offered 
to all that bore his name. The beginning of August 
saw the party in Switzerland, where they went over 
the then customary "grand round" from Geneva and 
Chamonix to Interlaken, Berne, Zurich, Basle, and finally 
by the Rhine and Strasburg back to Paris again. Au- 
gust 23 they were in that city, and on the 10th of Sep- 
tember they quitted it for Dieppe, en route for London, 
stopping over one day at Lewes to see Southover Church 
and " the seats of our ancient ancestors." 

After a short stay in London the little party betook 
themselves to Edinburgh, where the peculiar kindness 
shown by Dr. Simpson 1 added greatly to their enjoyment. 
At the end of a week they left for Liverpool, where Dr. 
AVarren attended the annual meeting of the British Asso- 
ciation, " which is said to be one of the most distinguished 



1 Dr. Simpson, afterwards Sir James Y. Simpson, Bart., was noted for his gen- 
erous hospitalities to his own profession ; and to none was he more amply attentive 
than to the American representatives thereof. Those who came from Boston found 
him peculiarly kind, though the last souvenir he received from this city can hardly 
have tended to increase his regard in their behalf. This was in the shape of a letter 
from the pungent and patriotic pen of Dr. Jacob Bigelow, who took pardonable 
offence at the language of the Lord Provost of Edinburgh in 1870, when he addressed 
Sir James on a public occasion as " the author of the greatest of all discoveries 
in modern times, — the application of chloroform to the assuagement of human 
suffering," — the truth of which was tacitly admitted by Sir James in his reply. 
This caused much excitement in the profession, and it may be rightly said in the 
world as well. Sir James's caustic, speedy, and exhaustive rejoinder was soon fol- 
lowed by his death in May of the same year; and the whole contest served as a sort 
of final reverberation of that virulent warfare to which the discovery of ether gave 
birth. 

In the course of his rejoinder Sir James did not fail to pay his respects to that 
" nameless column," the ether monument in the Public Garden of this city. " There 
has lately been raised in Boston," he wrote, " a monument in commemoration of its 
being the birthplace of anaesthesia in dentistry and surgery in 1840. But have 
the erectors of this monument cut upon it the names of either of your fellow- 
citizens, Dr. Morton or Dr. Jackson, as the first investigators, or the names of 
Warren and Haj'ward, as the first Boston hospital surgeons who operated upon 
patients under the influence of sulphuric ether 1 " 



244 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

that has ever come together." September 30 the party 
sailed for Boston, where they arrived on the 13th of Oc- 
tober in good spirits, and with considerable refreshment to 
him for whose especial benefit the tour had been under- 
taken. As their steamer entered the harbor of Halifax a 
little incident occurred which was well calculated to ex- 
cite the gratitude of the party for their safe return. It 
was the sudden advent of a little steamboat containing 
two officers and twenty-five of the crew of the unfortu- 
nate " Arctic/' sunk on the 27th of the preceding month 
with three hundred and twenty-two souls. These survi- 
vors were taken on board the " Europa " and went in it 
to Boston. 

Unhappily the experiences of another winter with its 
fatiguing duties made it very evident that Dr. Warren's 
health was far from being re-established with the complete- 
ness that had been desired and imagined. Ailments now 
appeared that were the source of more serious annoyance 
than he had as yet suffered. To bodily languor and 
feeble digestion had gradually succeeded the graver trou- 
ble of nervous prostration, accompanied at times by in- 
tense excitement amounting to hysteria. Mental lassitude 
had been followed by extreme dejection, which had finally 
pressed upon him with a weight so heavy that it became 
almost intolerable, and the sorely strained faculties at 
times threatened to give way altogether. Strange to say, 
however, through all this season of depression, nothing 
ever affected the performance of his medical or surgical 
duties. Though at times apparently " perplexed in the 
extreme," the spirit and habit of professional order and 
allegiance were invariably present, and never failed so 
shrewdly to control the hand that wielded the knife or 
the lancet, that neither nervous weakness nor loss of skill 
was perceptible to the keenest eye. To Dr. Warren the 
only chance of relief from these grave disorders seemed 
to lie in a more extended journey and a longer absence 



GENERAL WARREN'S REMAINS. 245 

from the cares of his practice. The same view was taken 
by his life-long friend, Dr. James Jackson, though it was 
never favored by his father, in whose unceasing experi- 
ence and devotion he would have done better to confide, 
stimulated as it was by an anxiety as intense as any fa- 
ther ever felt in a son's behalf, and so poignant that even 
at the very last hour he forcibly urged his son to abandon 
his project. 

Shortly before his departure for Europe, Dr. Warren 
assisted at the removal of the remains of General Joseph 
Warren from the crypt of St. Paul's Church to the family 
lot at Forest Hills, where they now rest. It was a pious 
office, though a melancholy one, — more melancholy in 
truth than he knew, as he and his father, who stood by his 
side, were on the verge of a separation which was to have 
no end in this world. Had they chosen one last ceremony 
to solemnize that parting and unite them still more closely 
for the moment than ever before, it would surely have 
been such a one as this. Faithful to each other even unto 
death, nothing could have more thoroughly blended their 
very souls in one than the work of tenderly caring for the 
ashes of him whom all men had ever held in reverence, 
and whose example had always urged them on towards 
everything that was noble, just, and patriotic ; 1 towards 
those monumental deeds which rise high in the memory 
of mankind — 

" When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent." 

On the 29th of August, 1855, Dr. Warren sailed from 
Boston in the " America," with his wife and three of his 
children, — his son and two daughters. The steamer had 
one hundred and four passengers in all. From Liverpool 

1 " The remains of General Joseph Warren were removed from St. Paul's to 
Forest Hills on Aug. 3, 1855, when my father, Sullivan, William Appleton, and my- 
self put them into a stone or earthen urn, like those of John Warren, Mrs. Warren, 
and my mother. The place was quite moist where they were put, and the hole in 
the head of General Warren was becoming enlarged by the crumbling of the mar- 
gin. I had a photograph made of it in three positions." — Journal, May 6, 1859. 



246 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

they travelled to London, and thence, after a few days, to 
Paris, which on the 16th of October they left for Geneva 
and finally reached Vevay, where the son was placed at 
a school for the winter. From that town the party left 
for Italy by the way of the Mont Cenis Pass, which they 
crossed in their own carriage to Turin, — one of the very 
last instances, by the way, of travelling by post over that 
route. Going through Genoa, Pisa, and Florence, they 
at length arrived in Rome on the 7th of November, " in 
a perfect deluge of rain." Having secured an apartment 
in the well-known house of Serny, No. 25 Piazza di 
Spagna, Dr. Warren settled down for the winter. The 
season proved to be unusually trying and disagreeable 
from many causes. The remarkably bad weather gave 
fresh support to Dr. Warren's opinion that, taking all 
things into account, the climate of New England was the 
best in the world. So far from experiencing the benefit 
that had been sought, the patient became rather worse, 
both in mind and body, the former becoming so sadly 
affected that his family were much alarmed. Dr. Warren 
did what he could in his own behalf, and in a letter to his 
brother-in-law wrote, "I employ myself in giving the 
children lessons, walking, and riding on horseback, but 
am debarred from going into the galleries from fear of 
the effects of cold after exercise ; " but nevertheless the 
reins were slipping further and further from his grasp. 
Slowly the winter moved on, with much distress and 
many a fear to those about him. It was a decided relief 
to his family when the conviction finally came to both 
him and them that nothing was likely to be gained from 
a longer stay in Rome, and that Dr. Warren's own home 
and his own climate offered far better conditions for a 
possible recovery than anything to be found in Europe. 
Accepting the escort kindly offered by a friend 1 and 

1 Mr. Josiah Quincy, Jr., the friend in question, gave the writer a most inter- 
esting account of the perfect self-control which, as has been before remarked, habit 



EETUEN TO BOSTON. 247 

neighbor, they made their way slowly northward in the 
spring, and travelling by way of Civita Vecchia, where 
they took a steamer to Marseilles, ultimately passed 
through Paris and London to Liverpool, reaching Boston 
in the " Europa," on the 3d of July, 1856. On his arrival 
he went at once with his wife and children to the old 
family mansion at Brookline, where they spent the re- 
maining summer months, and that with decided refresh- 
ment, as he found all the conditions — the air, the locality, 
the driving with a spirited horse that had belonged to his 
father — most favorable to his recovery. He seemed to 
draw in new life with every breath. These were all the 
more necessary to his cure, as he had encountered on his 
arrival many gloomy fatalities, which might naturally 
have confirmed his customary depression, and in any 
event were but little fitted to restore a mental equilib- 
rium that had been so seriously disturbed. 

On the 4th of the preceding May Dr. Warren's father 
had died, having gradually succumbed to advancing years, 
though the immediate cause of his decease was undoubt- 
edly grief at his son's condition and despair of his final 
recovery. On the very day of Dr. Warren's return his 
sister, Mrs. Charles Lyman, had also passed away, and 
thus deepened the darkness that had gathered about him, 
though her loss, compared with that of his father, would 
have been easy to bear. That sorrow none could really 
estimate but himself, and the sundering of a tie so strong 
and tender wrenched his very heart-strings ; but, as be- 
fore, he endured this also in silence, and even of those 
nearest and dearest to him none could realize the depth 

and professional instinct led Dr. Warren to display, even when agitated by the 
greatest mental disorder. On board the steamer to Marseilles a cinder had been 
blown into the eye of one of his daughters, causing much pain and distress. Her 
father, in the midst of all his agitation, became instantly calm at the sight, and 
whipping out an instrument from his pocket ordered his child to show her eye to 
him. Trembling she did so, when with a keen and characteristic rapidity the 
particle was removed, and again the mind of the operator gave way to those 
strange influences that before were ruffling it. 



248 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

of his affliction from any outward and visible evidence. 
In his mind his father had through death been born into 
a sacred immortality, and in his own memory was still an 
undying presence. From this new life achieved beyond 
the grave came a certain strength and invigoration, 
which, fortified by the pure elixir of a past so lofty in its 
aims, ever incited to fresh labors, fresh discipline, and a 
stronger faith. 

Some weeks before he turned his steps towards home 
Dr. Warren received from his father the last letter he 
was destined to have from his hand, and apparently the 
last of any length that the writer ever penned. It was 
written two months before the latter's death, at a time 
when the " grasshopper had become a burden, " and every 
unwonted exertion told heavily upon failing powers. 
Though too long to quote in its entirety, the concluding 
portion may properly here be given, as the final utter- 
ance of a dying father to a son who was dear to him 
beyond all earthly things. Its perusal will show how 
earnest was the writer's anxiety for his son's eternal hap- 
piness, and his trust that Heaven might send that help 
which earth seemed unable to provide. After the ex- 
pression of his deep solicitude for his son's condition, with 
much sound and sensible advice, Dr. Warren ends his 
letter as follows : — 

There is nothing better adapted to relieve your present 
feelings than a right religious sentiment. I was therefore grati- 
fied with your allusion to the subject. Perhaps it has pleased 
Providence to afflict you so severely for the purpose of direct- 
ing your attention from your bodily sufferings and reliefs to a 
higher and more permanent source of comfort, in the thought 
that all these troubles are destined to produce a more immediate 
sense of dependence on the Author of all good. In order to 
accomplish the work thus begun you must give up this close 
attention to your painful feelings, and throw yourself, body and 
soul, at the feet of Him who alone can give you permanent 
relief. If you can do this thoroughly, not as a momentary feel- 



IMPROVING HEALTH. 249 

ing, but a settled temper of mind, you will realize a tranquillity 
which you can experience in no other way. 

So, praying God to bring you to this most happy conclusion, 
and your family also, I remain 

Your affectionate father, 

J. C. Warren. 

To the unspeakable gratification and relief of all his 
friends, at the end of a few months after Dr. Warren's 
return favorable symptoms began to appear, and these 
were soon followed by increasing physical strength, and a 
mental vigor to which he had long been a stranger. 1 ' 
The dawning light gradually brightened into perfect day, 
without cloud, serene ; and the self-absorption born of his 
troubles gave way before the inspiring claims of the pro- 
fession that he loved so well, and to which he now gave 
himself up with increasing energy and absorption. In 
October he exchanged his somewhat contracted abode on 
Park Street for No. 2 2 on the same street, which had so 
long been the residence of his father. As he had now 
five children, this removal greatly increased his comfort ; 
and, in truth, the need of more roomy quarters had be- 
come absolutely imperative, as the dwelling at No. 6, 
though cheerful and convenient, both without and within, 
was but a little slice of a house, at best. For the next 
few years Dr. Warren's health, though always delicate, 
and requiring careful and judicious management, con- 
tinued equal to the ordinary demands upon his strength, 
both mentally and bodily. In 1859 his oldest child, 
Mary, was married to Mr. Samuel Hammond, an alliance 

1 During all Dr. Warren's protracted trials he derived abundant aid and efficient 
encouragement from his father's early and devoted friend, and his own as well, Dr. 
James Jackson, whose skill and experience had seldom been more severely tested. 
The attachment he had ever felt for the father Dr. Jackson never ceased warmly 
to manifest towards the son, and in any trouble, professional or other, especially 
after his father's death, Dr. Warren confidently relied upon his advice, and never 
in vain. He outlived Dr. Warren but one week. 

2 A descriptive sketch of this house — so long a centre of domestic and pro- 
fessional interest — will be found appended to this memoir. 



250 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

which was the source of much comfort and satisfaction to 
the end of his life, and none the less that he was not des- 
tined to witness the marriage of any one of his other 
children. From the year 1846 his summers were almost 
invariably spent at Nahant, a spot for which he felt an 
extraordinary attachment. This annual recreation greatly 
invigorated him, while the vicinity of the place to Boston 
enabled him to continue his daily visits to the hospital, 1 
and this with more ease to himself than could have been 
experienced elsewhere, since he could pass to and fro in 
the steamer, — a means of conveyance which he found 
indispensable, as any wheeled vehicle now caused him a 
degree of discomfort that he could no longer endure even 
under the most favorable conditions. 2 To alleviate this 
as much as possible, he had finally been obliged to em- 
ploy an air cushion, which he carried continually under 

1 On the afternoon of Saturday, the day of the customary weekly operations at 
the hospital, and on the afternoon following, Dr. Warren was wont to visit the 
institution, that he might see the new patients and look after their condition ; and 
never did he fail to bestow a few kind words upon them, or to minister to their 
various needs. Not unfrequently, on these occasions, he was accompanied by one 
or more of his young daughters, who would sometimes take tea with the nurses. 
The whole place had a winning charm in his eyes. " Sunday, June 24, 1866," his 
journal records, "in the afternoon visited the hospital again. Rosamond, Alice 
Bradlee, and myself went there last evening by moonlight. The scene was very 
beautiful. Eound the students very assiduous in brewing claret punch, one of the 
principal operators, who is a patient, having a bandage round his head." 

2 This infirmity had gradually come to be the cause of much deprivation to Dr. 
Warren, as he was naturally very fond of riding and driving, and not only needed 
the bodily exercise, but his quick nerves found a certain composure in the lively 
and vigorous motion. Like his father, he was conscious of a sort of magnetic sym- 
pathy with a good horse, and could well appreciate the fine points of one. He 
had a keen conception of the animal's nature, and a knowledge of his anatomy 
as well. At one period he was accustomed to ride daily with his brother-in-law 
Mr. Charles Lyman, and at a very rapid pace. On Cambridge Bridge his horse 
trod on a lump of frozen earth, and soon came to a stop. Having dismounted, the 
Doctor passed his hand over the animal's leg, and quickly showed his comprehen- 
sion of the accident by declaring that the great pastern bone was broken. Subse- 
quent examination showed that it was fractured in five places. He was rarely 
taken by surprise on any occasion, and when again riding with Mr. Lyman near 
the locality where this incident happened, and a man in a wagon rudely drove into 
the latter, Dr. Warren at once urged his steed forward, crowded the offender on to 
the sidewalk, and compelled him to give his name and address. 



THE GREAT REBELLION. 251 

his arm, and thus deadened the pains which were sure to 
result from a sitting posture. 

The outbreak of the great Rebellion made a prompt 
and urgent appeal to all Dr. Warren's patriotic sympa- 
thies. His own instincts taught him at once the course 
to pursue, and throughout the war he never failed to 
extend in innumerable shapes to his struggling country 
the help she had a right to demand from every citizen. 
Professionally his services were bestowed with especial 
interest and ability, and as one of the State Board of 
Medical Examiners he was able to offer much effective 
aid as the outcome of his large experience. To gun-shot 
wounds he gave particular attention; and many of the 
most important cases that came to his notice or were 
brought to him for treatment, he published in a pamphlet 
for the benefit of the profession. In 1862 Dr. Warren 
sent to Paris for three surgical knapsacks, of the pattern 
used in the French army, with the design of presenting 
them to regiments which had gained notable distinction 
since the beginning of the war. One of these was sub- 
sequently given to Dr. Greene, surgeon of the Twenty- 
fourth Regiment ; another to the Forty -fifth, or Cadet, 
Regiment ; while the third was forwarded, with a compli- 
mentary letter, to Dr. Dyer, surgeon of the Nineteenth. 



CHAPTER XV. 

INCREASING ILLNESS. — ADDRESS TO THE MASSACHUSETTS 

MEDICAL SOCIETY. " SURGICAL OBSERVATIONS." — 

GROWING WEAKNESS. CEASELESS ACTIVITY. LAST 

VISIT TO THE HOSPITAL. — GRADUAL APPROACH OF 
DEATH. 

In August, 1865, while at Nahant, Dr. Warren was 
prostrated by a sudden and violent attack of dysentery, 
which excited no little alarm to his friends. Though for 
the time he rallied from this, his convalescence was very 
slow, and the results made serious and permanent inroads 
upon his scanty powers of reaction. He was, in fact, in a 
state of comparative debility till the ensuing summer, 
when in the same month another illness of that nature 
reduced him to a state of still greater invalidism. To his 
stomach the consequences were peculiarly disastrous ; and 
so weak did his digestion become, that from this time 
to the end of his life his diet was limited to small quan- 
tities of bread and meat, and for the proper assimilation 
of even that slight nourishment brandy and other stimu- 
lants were necessarily taken. 

To those who knew the pain and weakness which Dr. 
Warren hardly ever ceased to suffer during the closing 
years of his life, the work he managed to achieve seemed 
most wonderful. 1 Ample evidence thereof still exists 

1 This continued and unflagging application, no less than their strength of will, 
was from the first a peculiar feature in the character of the Warrens ; and it was 
especially noticeable in the career of Dr. John Warren, to whom Dr. Mason War- 
ren bore in certain respects so decided a resemblance. " The same fervor," says 
Dr. Thacher in the biography previously quoted, " was exhibited in all his pursuits. 



ARDUOUS LABOES. 25 



in the record of his surgical operations, written out with 
his own hand day after day, month after month, year 
after year, to the extent of hundreds of pages. With 
painstaking diligence he set down the prominent fea- 
tures and characteristic details of every operation he per- 
formed. Many of these were striking in the extreme, 
and such as none but a skilful and practised hand could 
accomplish. In contemplating this long roll of honorable 
enterprise one cannot fail to be struck with their vast 
number, and with the fact that there is hardly any por- 
tion of the human body of which the surgeon failed to 
evince his intimate knowledge. The various cases are 
stated in a compact, graphic way, — the style of one who 
knew what he was about, and desired to tell the simple 
truth as honestly, as vividly, and in as short a compass as 
was consistent with thoroughness. It recalls the neat, 
curt, and effective incisiveness of the Doctor's own rapid 
hand when wielding the knife or the lancet. In addition 
to these evidences of labor, frequent articles in the med- 
ical and surgical publications of the day disclosed an 
industry and activity which gladly welcomed an outlet 
wherever good might be done or the best interests of his 
profession be advanced. His position as member of vari- 
ous societies also brought not a little hard work upon his 
shoulders, as he well knew what his station demanded, 
and did not wish to partake of the honors bestowed upon 
him without performing his share of the labor that might 
be justly called for. On the 25th of May, 1864, 1 he de- 

He entered upon them zealously, and devoted his whole soul to their accomplish- 
ment. He allowed himself no rest, day or night, till he was satisfied that nothing 
in his power to perform remained undone. It was probably from the strong inter- 
est his pursuits excited that he acquired in so eminent a degree the power of con- 
centrating his faculties. To this power, joined to his extensive knowledge and 
observation, may be attributed the rapidity of his mental processes, the facility 
with which he arrived at his conclusions. Hence it was that he was able to per- 
form so much in a given time as to astonish other men of even industrious habits." 
1 Previous to this time Dr. Warren had already written and published various 
medical and surgical papers on subjects of professional interest, several of them 
on elaborate operations performed by himself, and all containing the rich fruits 



254 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

livered the annual address before the Massachusetts Med- 
ical Society, with which he had for so many years been 
connected as counsellor. His subject was " Recent Pro- 
gress in Surgery," and it gave him the opportunity of 
presenting in a compendious form the matured richness 
of much thoughtful and intelligent observation. The 
style of the writer and the wide reach of his informa- 
tion made this address most entertaining, even to those 
outside of the audience for whose benefit it was more par- 
ticularly designed. Dr. Warren's kindly nature, in which 
was no taint of professional jealousy, gladly welcomed 
this occasion as a means of publicly honoring in terms 
of the warmest eulogy the characteristic excellences and 
attainments of the numerous friends and colleagues to 
whom he had so greatly endeared himself, and from 
whom he had received so many evidences of the esteem 
in which they held him, especially Dr. Jackson, Dr. 
Henry I. Bowditch, and Dr. Holmes. From the latter he 
received the following charming note, acknowledging the 
receipt of a copy of his address : — 

June 6, 1864. 

My dear Warren, — Accept my cordial thanks for the 
beautiful " private " copy of your Address. I am not much of 
a surgeon, but I shall read what you have to say from your ripe 
experience with great interest. I see that you speak indul- 
gently of my somewhat too noted discourse. Be assured that 
the kind words of an old friend always please an author more 
than the eulogies of aliens. 

I could not hear you very well where I sat. I suspect that 
my ear-drums may not be quite so tightly corded up as in the 
days when we saw our young faces in the Burgundy of the 

of his own experience and observation. In 1851 he brought out a pamphlet giving 
an account of " Two Remarkable Indian Dwarfs," by some called Aztecs, that had 
been exhibited shortly before in Boston. To the volume of the " New England 
Historical and Genealogical Register" for 1865 he contributed a memoir of his 
father, written at the request of its editors. 

A list of Dr. Warren's writings, to the number of twenty-six, is given in Alli- 
bone's " Dictionary of English Literature." 



"SURGICAL OBSERVATIONS." 255 

Trois Fr&res. But Dr. Jackson was near enough to hear you, 
and paid you a compliment, at the expense of a good many of 
us? — to wit, that yours was the only address he had ever lis- 
tened to without falling asleep. 

I look forward with much pleasure to the regilding of my 
somewhat tarnished chirurgical knowledge from the pages 
which hold the golden results of your long and faithful study 
of the branch which you have practised with so much honor to 
yourself and so much profit to the community. 

Always your sincere friend, 

O. W. Holmes. 1 

As a sort of sequence to this address, and that he might 
also develop and illustrate the views and facts contained 
therein, Dr. Warren published a work entitled " Surgical 
Observations, with Cases and Operations.' ' To this he 
had given much time and thought during the final years 
of his life ; and the book was in reality an epitome of his 
whole career, embodying, as it did, the more important 
results both of a large private practice and of his twenty 
years' experience at the Hospital. It was more especially 
welcome to his own fraternity, as none others could 
thoroughly and critically estimate the value of its contents. 
In the preparation of this volume, which did not appear 
till nearly three months before his death, Dr. Warren 
found a certain indemnity for the pains he suffered while 
engaged upon it ; and though he did not live long enough 
to realize the full appreciation bestowed by those who 
read it, the criticisms that reached him caused him much 
satisfaction, and sufficed to show that his labor had not 
been in vain. Especially did the approval of his pro- 

1 In his journal Dr. Warren refers to this occasion as follows: "May 25, 
1864. — Delivered the annual address before the Massachusetts Medical Society ; 
Dr. Jackson present, Dr. Ordronaux, Brown-Sequard, Dr. Mauran of Providence, 
and other distinguished men. Got through much better than I expected, con- 
sidering that I have been ill with a sore throat for the last six weeks. Not- 
withstanding many omissions, the address took up an hour and ten minutes. 
Afterwards there was a collation at the Revere House, at which Dr. II. J. Bigelow 
and Governor Andrew made speeches." 



256 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

fessional brethren serve for the time as a panacea to his 
wasting forces, infusing new vigor into his frame and 
lessening the terrors of coming death. The first copy 
that came to him he sent to his friend Dr. Holmes, whose 
characteristic note of thanks might well have done its 
part towards lengthening the life of its recipient. 1 

At a meeting of the Medical Board of the Hospital 
held Feb. 23, 1866, Dr. Warren resigned his place as sec- 
retary, "which I had held," his journal records, "for 
twenty years, having been originally chosen on the nomi- 
nation of Dr. Jacob Bigelow. Only two of the original 

1 At a special meeting of the Suffolk District Medical Society, called three days 
after Dr. Warren's decease, to testify the respect of his former associates for 
his memor}'-, Dr. Holmes delivered an address, of which a short extract has here- 
tofore been given. In this he sought in feeling language to portray the varied 
worth of one whom none knew better or more intimately than himself. To his 
last work he referred in terms which were amply justified by the esteem in which 
it was then and still is held : — 

" It has been most happy for Dr. Warren's fame that he lived to complete that 
noble volume containing the record of his surgical practice, which bears the date 
of this very year 1867. How full of valuable observations, plainly and simply 
told, — for he made no unnecessary show of words in telling the most startling 
cases that came before him, — this important work is, many of you know well. 
Almost everything which has been dared in surgery is there set down from his own 
experience. No matter what the gravity of the case or the brilliancy of his suc- 
cess, whether the tying of both carotids, or the extirpation of the upper maxilla, 
or amputation of the hip-joint, it is all told without expletives, without notes of 
admiration, in all the dignity of true science, — told as the engineer describes a sec- 
tion of the earth, as the astronomer describes the transit of a star. It would have 
been hard to part with such a man, even when age had dimmed his eye and relaxed 
his strength ; it is very hard to relinquish him with so much seemingly in prospect 
for him, and through him for us." 

These words are not only interesting as the inspiration of kindly and candid 
esteem for a friend just parted, but valuable as the prompting of a sense of merit 
in the mind of an expert, both professional and literary, whose opinion could not 
be lightly regarded. 

In June Dr. Warren wrote to his son, then in Europe : " I have just received a 
letter from Mr. Colles, of Dublin, highly praising my book. I have sent one to 
Langenbeck. The review in the ' American Journal of Medical Science ' is quite 
flattering. I have a plan for another book, which I will tell you about hereafter." 
The book thus proposed in the very face of impending death is probably more 
fully described in the following extract from Dr. Warren's journal: "July 23, 
1867. — Called on Mr. Fields yesterday, and had some conversation about pub- 
lishing my father's surgical papers, with additional observations, prefaced by a 
memoir which I had already prepared for the Historic Genealogical Society. He 
thought they had better be brought out in the same style as my own book." 



FAILING STRENGTH. 257 

board remain in it, Dr. Henry J. Bigelow and myself." 
His long service now entitled him, as the oldest member, 
to the position of chairman, which he retained till his 
death. In the ensuing April Dr. Warren completed his 
term as president of the Suffolk District Medical Soci- 
ety, an office which he had filled since April, 1864. 

After the appearance of his book Dr. Warren's health 
grew obviously worse, and his feebleness and emaciation 
daily appealed more and more strongly to the sympathies 
of his friends. He was seen less and less in company ; 
and the last invitation he accepted was from Mr. Gard- 
ner Brewer, to meet Mr. George Peabody at dinner on 
Thursday, April 11, 1867. Shortly after this he dis- 
played his liberality in a conspicuous manner, and with 
a generosity highly appreciated, by the gift of two thou- 
sand dollars towards the new operating-theatre which 
was soon to be erected for the use of the hospital sur- 
geons, though he himself, alas ! was never to behold it. 
The profound attachment felt for his brother Sullivan has 
been before mentioned. On the 6th of February, 1867, 
Sullivan died in spite of all that could be done to save 
him. This struck on his sensitive nature with the force 
of an eternal pain. He heard the knell of coming doom, 

" The far-off curfew sound, 
Over some wide-watered shore 
Swinging slow with sullen roar," 

and carrying conviction to his heart with fateful force. 
Said his sister, Mrs. Dwight : " The day before, when 
Mason and I were together in the room next to that 
where Sullivan lay in a dying state, I observed, i This 
is your birthday/ A sort of shudder passed over him as 
he answered, ' I hoped nobody would remember it.' He 
never came out of the shadow which his brother's death 
cast upon him. From that moment he felt he was to 
follow." 

17 



258 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Having for several months suspected the existence of 
some serious internal trouble, Dr. Warren desired his friends 
Dr. Putnam and Dr. Cabot to make an examination. This 
was done in the month of May, and the result 1 was a 
confirmation of the fears that had so long oppressed him, 
and had of late assumed a mournful certainty. But 
even this death-sentence was accepted with silent resig- 
nation, and caused no change in his bearing or in his 
daily life. Though dying, he suffered no unmanly lament 
to escape his lips, nor during the long weeks and months 
of slow approach to the solemn future did he betray the 
natural frailty of man when in pain, or agitate the minds 
of those around him by even a suggestion of his and 
their coming sorrow. Silent, cheerful, uncomplaining, 
full of a gentlemanly reserve, he was content to follow 
his usual avocations and inflict his burden upon none but 
himself. No pain, however intense, extorted any tribute 
from him, nor did he ever refer to his approaching doom, 
except on one occasion, when inborn affection for those 
most dear to him wrung from his lips a few words of dis- 
tress at their impending desolation. By the pressure of 
an iron will he retained the majesty of his self-control, 
and quickened his wasting powers with the indomitable 
energy which had inspired his whole life. On the 6th of 
May, 1867, he presided for the ninth time at the annual 
meeting of the Boston Medical Association, knowing full 
well that this was the last. To the labors of his pro- 
fession he continued faithful to the end, and there was no 
sign of falling away, either at the hospital or in his pri- 
vate practice. The lion heart still held its own. " Ce 
n'est pas la victoire qui fait le bonheur des nobles 
cceurs; c'est le combat/' said Mirabeau; and thus Dr. 
Warren felt during that struggle, dire and long, while 
Death was ever more and more peremptorily knocking at 

1 This was the discovery of a tumor in the right iliac region, which was thought 
to be of a scirrhous nature. 



DYING ENERGY. 259 

the door. Like Cromwell, he believed that " a governor 
ought to die standing." Fortunately for his own peace 
of mind, there was consolation for many woes in this 
absorption in honorable pursuits, in this steady progress 
along the path of duty. Never during his past career 
had he performed a greater number of operations within 
a similar space of time, or those requiring more skill or 
labor, than the work of his closing weeks. " Le repos, 
c'est la mort," said Dupuytren, when urged to cease for 
a time those labors which were so rapidly wearing him out. 
And so it was with Dr. Warren. No token was there 
of failing strength, dexterity, or enthusiasm. Under date 
of June 6, 1867, one reads in his journal : "During the 
day I had patients from every quarter, and prescribed 
for more at the house than I remember ever to have 
done before." June 29 he wrote : "During the last four 
months I have performed ninety operations at the hospi- 
tal, and about thirty in private practice. There have 
been about two hundred operations at the hospital by all 
the surgeons." 

On the first day of July he received his twenty-first ap- 
pointment at the hospital, and on that day he paid the 
institution his last official visit. He had now been for 
nearly five years the head of its professional staff. He 
was then suffering so acutely from pain and weakness as 
scarcely to be able to walk. Directly after this he went 
to Xahant for his annual summer sojourn, to which, though 
aware of his sad condition, he had looked forward as prom- 
ising at least a temporary alleviation of his sufferings. He 
continued, however, to return to Boston, and to his private 
practice each day in the steamboat, where his spirits still 
rallied round him a host of friends and admirers, who 
were charmed by his humor and his rich and luxuriant 
powers of description. In these respects he never flagged. 
To the end he was a raconteur of the first lustre. This 
movement to and fro could not long be borne, unhappily, 



260 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

and his forces gradually ceased to be equal to the ex- 
ertion. In the train of growing debility came a still 
increasing pallor that daily blanched his cheeks to a 
whiter hue, till they at length were almost perfectly 
colorless. Never were hearts more sorely wrung than 
those of the friends who saw death in his features as he 
moved among them, and yet were powerless to help. 
" We all pitied him," said one, " because we more than 
respected him/' Never were sufferings more widely or 
deeply lamented than his ; and could unstinted sympathy 
have saved him, these pages had as yet been unwritten. 
Nervously conscious of his aspect and unwilling to cause 
even this anxiety to those about him, he sought to hide 
or at least to mitigate it by fishing for hours in the broil- 
ing sun on the rocks at Nahant, that he might thus ac- 
quire a browner and more healthy hue. On the 18th of 
July Dr. Warren was seized with a chill, of which he 
well understood the meaning. Tranquilly accepting it as 
a foretaste of quick-coming fate, he returned to Boston, 
taking a last and sad farewell of that home by the sea 
which years of enjoyment had made so unspeakably dear 
to him. On the 26th of that month a telegram was sent 
to his son, urging his speedy return home. It reached 
him at Munich, and he left for Liverpool on the same day. 
Landing in New York on the 14th of August, he speedily 
made his way to his father's side. Too feeble and too 
overcome for the moment to speak, Dr. Warren could 
only extend his arms with an affectionate and fervent 
welcome which no words could deepen. Sad as was the 
darkness that was now gathering around him, there was 
peace and assurance, as of coming dawn, in his face when 
he recognized the presence of one who would dutifully 
receive the expiring lamp which was so soon to pass from 
his own hand. 

With increasing strength he found words to express his 
delight at his son's return so opportunely, which he re- 



LAST HOURS. 261 

garded as little short of miraculous, — a pleasing illusion 
which it was thought best not to disturb, his friends hav- 
ing designedly kept him in ignorance of the summons 
that had been sent, and being quite willing that he should 
regard his son's arrival as the result of a natural desire to 
employ his summer vacation in a visit to his home. The 
father was destined to survive yet a few days longer, 
though with steadily failing faculties. His mind was clear 
almost to the last. Feeble as he was, he disdained to 
surrender, even to inexorable death, any of the proprie- 
ties with which during his life he had never ceased to 
surround himself. Of these he ever possessed an ex- 
quisite and clinging sense. He was resolved to die as 
a gentleman, with no falling off in the appointments of a 
life till then so well rounded out. To a gentleman much 
was due, and he had a wide appreciation of all that could 
justly be claimed by one who knew in his heart of hearts 
that he had a right to the title. He liked to hear music 
softly and continually played on the piano. From time 
to time his children were brought to him from Nahant, 
and at his request always gayly dressed in their best and 
prettiest. Till within two days of his death, he never 
failed to take his customary bath. As to his food, though 
he could eat little or nothing, he always observed the 
ordinary routine of three meals and a cup of tea. Weak 
as he was, he would compel exhausted Nature to take one 
spoonful of soup, and pay at least this tribute to the con- 
ventionalities of refinement and propriety. Not Chester- 
field himself could have retired with more becoming grace 
from the halls of Life that he had so adorned ; nor Chatham 
have moved with serener composure towards the en- 
trance to the court of Death. 

On Monday the 19th of August, at five minutes before 
eleven o'clock in the evening, his sufferings ended and he 
ceased to breathe. A mighty calmness crept over his face, 
and he rested forever from the joys, the sorrows, and the 



262 JONATHAN" MAS OK WAKKEN. 

triumphs of life. He died surrounded by his family, whom 
he rallied sufficiently to recognize only three hours before 
his decease. On the following Thursday there were 
services at his late residence, under the care of his 
brother-in-law, the Kev. William Mountford, after which 
the remains were taken to the church of St. Paul's, of 
which Dr. Warren had for so many years been a commu- 
nicant, as was his father before him. Its rector, Dr. 
Nicholson, and the Eev. Copley Greene together minis- 
tered at that sweet and solemn farewell with which the 
Episcopal Church accompanies its members to the verge 
of eternity, and invokes for them the blessing promised 
of old to the dead who die in the Lord. Karely has the 
majestic, reverent, and inspiring eloquence of its burial 
service been more befittingly read or responded to with 
a more cordial and sincere amen than by the multitude 
that thronged the edifice. From St. Paul's the body was 
transported to the lot at Forest Hills, where it now re- 
poses with the ashes of his father and of the other mem- 
bers of his family who had gone before him. 

" Death, with his healing hand, 

Shall once more knit the band 
Which needs but that one link which none may sever ; 

Till, through the only Good, 

Heard, felt, and understood, 
Their life in God hath made them one forever." 

To those who were left to bewail his loss he bequeathed 
a name and fame that might well have done much to 
arrest the tears which affection must offer to those who 
have worthily lived and died. Cut off at an age too early 
for the interests of his profession and of the society which 
he had so greatly adorned, deeply conscious that the 
possibilities of his future far exceeded the achievements 
of the past, he yet yielded with calmness to the approach 
of death, feeling it incumbent upon him to do nothing 
weak, or which might tarnish the fairness of that vesture 



THE LESSON OF A NOBLE LIFE. 263 

which had come to him from men whose lives had in- 
spired his own and which they had worn with such a 
daily beauty. The shadows of approaching mortality 
were illuminated not only by the brightness of dawning 
heaven, but by the consciousness of good desert, of a life 
consecrated to noble aims, and of an ever-abiding desire 
to do nothing that might be called unbecoming a gentle- 
man and a Christian, or cause one pang in the hearts of 
his friends. 

" He was the soul of goodness ; 
And all our praises of him are like streams, 
Drawn from a spriog, that still rise full and leave 
The part remaining greatest. " 



CHAPTER XVI. 

CONNECTION WITH VARIOUS SOCIETIES. — TRIBUTES OF 
EESPECT. — RESOLUTIONS OF THE PHYSICIANS AND 
SURGEONS OF THE MASSACHUSETTS GENERAL HOSPI- 
TAL. — LETTER FROM DR. HENRY I. BOWDITCH. 

As might naturally have been inferred from the honor 
and esteem with which he was regarded, Dr. Warren was 
in various forms connected with many societies and insti- 
tutions. From February, 1846, he was one of the six 
visiting surgeons of the Massachusetts General Hospital. 
He was also secretary of the Medical Board at the same 
institution, and perpetual secretary of the Boylston Prize 
Committee from his election in 1850. He was president 
of the Boylston Medical Society, and of the Suffolk 
Medical District Society. On the 30th of October, 1866, 
he was elected president of the Massachusetts Medical 
Benevolent Society, and from the death of his father in 
1856 he served as president of the Thursday Evening 
Club till his own decease, and likewise of the Warren 
Museum of Natural History. He was a councillor of 
the Massachusetts Medical Society; a fellow of the 
American Medical Association ; a trustee of the Humane 
Society and of the Lying-in Hospital ; one of the stand- 
ing committee of the Cincinnati, and of the committee 
for visiting the Medical School. In 1849 he became a 
fellow of the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Harvard Col- 
lege. During the War of the Rebellion he was one of 
the Board of Medical Examiners for the Commonwealth. 



RESOLUTIONS OF KESPECT. 265 

He was a director of the Bunker Hill Monument Associa- 
tion, a member of the Boston Society of Natural History, 
and a fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sci- 
ences. He was one of the prudential committee of the 
Boston Society of Medical Improvement, and an hon- 
orary fellow of the New York Medical Society, a member 
of the Medical Society of the State of New York, and a 
fellow of the Trustees of the College of Physicians and 
Surgeons of the University of the State of New York. 

The universal feeling of regret for Dr. Warren's loss 
naturally found expression in numberless resolutions 
passed by the societies of which he was a member. Of 
these there is space in this memoir for but one series ; 
and for the insertion of these it is trusted that a sufficient 
excuse will be found — if any be needed — in the impor- 
tant position of the body that adopted them, in the length 
and intimacy of the relation of its members with the 
deceased, and in their minute delineation of his character 
as a man and a surgeon. 

At the regular quarterly meeting of the physicians and 
surgeons of the Massachusetts General Hospital, held at 
the house of Dr. H. J. Bigelow on the 26th inst., Dr. 
Henry J. Bigelow, the chairman, offered the following 
resolutions, which were unanimously adopted : — 

n Eesolved, That the members of this Board are deeply sen- 
sible of the loss they have sustained in the death of their late 
associate Dr. J. Mason Warren, in the maturity of his faculties 
and usefulness. 

" Occupying an enviable position at his entrance upon profes- 
sional life, he carefully cherished both his personal and heredi- 
tary reputation, and did honor to a name already illustrious. 
From the outset he surrendered himself to his favorite pursuit 
with a zeal so exclusive that everything connected with it 
seemed to assume, in his view, an importance sometimes par- 
taking almost of exaggeration. For more than twenty years 
the Massachusetts General Hospital reaped the benefit of this 



266 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

concentrated professional devotion, which the illness of the last 
year or two of his life hardly abated ; and remembering that he 
undertook no duty that he did not perform with conscientious 
exactness, this Board recognizes the extent of its obligation to 
him, both in the value of his daily services and in the reputa- 
tion he has added to the institution of which his father was a 
founder. He was an accomplished surgeon, and brought to the 
deliberations of his colleagues an inherited and prompt decision, 
not the result merely of strong conviction, but tempered and 
g aided by a mind instinctively logical as to the recurring facts 
of e very-day surgical practice ; based on a breadth of view such 
as long experience only can give, and comprehending not merely 
the material pathology, but the mental condition and the sur- 
rounding circumstances of the sufferer. He devised new and 
valuable operative methods, of which the free dissection in the 
case of cleft palate was perhaps the most important ; although, 
in omitting to specify with anatomical detail the parts divided, 
he enabled a foreign surgeon to lay doubtful claim to an opera- 
tion which he had himself really devised and first successfully 
performed. 

" In surgery life often hangs upon the difficult decision what 
it is best to do. To do it afterwards is comparatively easy. As 
a good executive surgeon, possessing most of the lesser and 
more common attributes of modern surgical excellence, Dr. 
Warren was a cool and skilful operator, and possessed a desira- 
ble boldness or confidence so far that no timidity or hesitancy 
ever warped his judgment away from an operation of serious or 
critical character. Yet he was neither bold nor cool from any 
constitutional indifference or insensibility to giving pain ; nor 
was he ever led into an operation hastily or indiscreetly by an 
undue desire for novelty or notoriety. Indeed, the extent of 
his surgical practice placed him beyond the reach of influences 
like these. But to a surgeon, his superiority was in his sound 
judgment and his great experience, — higher and rarer qualities 
than that mere mechanical dexterity in operating which in the 
ruder days of science was identified with it, as it is now often 
by the public at large and sometimes even by physicians. 

" We cannot forget his gentle and high-bred courtesy of 
manner, never obsequious, nor in his case incompatible with a 
keen relish for social enjoyment ; of late years combined with 



HOSPITAL RESOLVES. 267 

somewhat less reserve, perhaps, than formerly, but always dif- 
fusing a genial influence, and gathering dignity from the purity 
of his character and the gentlemanlike quality of his senti- 
ments. At the occasional discussions of his colleagues he did 
not shrink from a necessary expression of opinion ; but he 
never expressed uncalled-for dissent, and often disarmed or 
qualified the opposition of those who differed from him by his 
uniform and manly urbanity. Those who were in frequent 
professional relations with him for many years will find it diffi- 
cult to remember a word of disparagement or even criticism of 
his professional brethren, while it is easy to recall his earnest 
advocacy of the claims of those allied to him by ties of friend- 
ship or obligation. His interest in our own Board always con- 
tinued ; and when, at its last meeting at his house, only a few 
months ago, he said that while he lived he should be always 
happy to see us assembled there, he — though he alone of all 
those present — must have known that his mortal illness was 
upon him. Skilful in his calling and wise in counsel, he ex- 
erted by his social position, his fine temper, his breeding and 
the elevated tone of his mind, an influence in our Board and in 
our profession here, the loss of which will be long and pro- 
foundly felt. 

" Resolved, That we recognize in our late colleague many of 
the attributes of a practitioner which are of greatest value to 
the community. 

44 In practice he was conservative and cautious, not prejudiced 
against novelty ; on the contrary, quite ready enough to give it 
attention, but with sagacious discrimination ; open to convic- 
tion as well against as for it ; and in his relations with others, 
guiding unsteady minds, both of educated and uneducated per- 
sons, among the ever-intruding new and futile remedies, the 
unprofitable or pernicious expedients and advice, with which 
the path especially of the surgical sufferer is too often beset. 

44 But the measure of a usefulness to which his health alone 
set the limit was dependent upon qualities as well of the heart 
as of the head. The welfare of those with whom he dealt pro- 
fessionally seemed ever to preoccupy his mind. He visited 
them so cheerfully and assiduously, both at the hospital and 
elsewhere, even long after his disease had seriously impaired his 
strength and rendered all bodily exertion painfully laborious, 



268 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

that one could not but pause and admire the courage and spirit 
which sustained him. If, during his active life, he had secured 
the confidence of his patients by his fidelity and by a decision of 
character which betrayed no doubt, he did more in winning 
their attachment by his unremitting kindness and attention, his 
discriminating perception of their character and wants, by his 
social qualities, his cordiality, and by the many traits which 
assured to him also a devoted affection in the nearer and nar- 
rower relations of his home." 

These sentiments awakened many a responsive echo 
even from the other side of the Atlantic, where Dr. 
Warren had created a permanent respect for his talents 
and acquirements. In the "Dublin Quarterly Journal" 
for November, 1867, one reads: "America has lost in 
him one of her ablest sons, one whose reputation had 
long since reached these shores, as an earnest worker 
and most successful surgeon. This year has cost us 
many who stood in the position of well-nigh personal 
friends." * 

The following tender and appreciative remembrance of 
Dr. Warren from his life-long friend Dr. Henry I. Bow- 
ditch, from which a short extract has been already given, 
needs not to be commended to any of the readers of this 
memoir in order to insure its perusal. Interesting in 
itself, it will bear an added grace and meaning in the 
minds of those who are aware how early the intimacy 
between these two eminent men began. It was an inti- 
macy which gradually grew from small beginnings and 
at length deepened into mutual affection, as each realized 
the other's sterling merits and the profound stability of 
that broad basis on which their attachment actually rested. 

1 The summer of 1867 was sadly memorable in the medical and surgical pro- 
fessions. Reference has heretofore been made to the death of Velpeau in August 
of that year, while the preceding June had already witnessed the decease of the 
illustrious Civiale, the inventor of lithotrity ; of Trousseau, the eminent physician 
and rival in fame of Velpeau ; of Sir William Lawrence, and of other luminaries 
only less brilliant. In August Dr. James Jackson also passed from earth. 



LETTER FROM DR. BOWDITCH. 269 

Death might sunder the tie that bound them together, 
but neither death nor time can ever extinguish in the 
mind of the survivor the sweet savor of its invigorating 
memory, — 

" When memory- 
Is all that can remain — 
The Indian summer of the soul, 
That kindly comes again — 
Reviving with its souvenirs 
The loves and hopes of early years." 

Dear Sir, — I regret that I promised to write to you about 
my excellent friend Dr. J. Mason Warren. Not that I would 
not desire to express my warmest admiration of him as a man 
and as a professional associate, but because, although I knew 
and really loved him for many years, I have no incidents to 
relate which will materially aid his biographer. 

Mason's life — all who knew him called him familiarly by his 
middle name — was, comparatively speaking, uneventful. He 
never thrust himself forward. He was satisfied with doing the 
daily round of duty and of courtesy, and the courteous gentle- 
man performed these offices well. 

I was in Paris with him. We occupied adjacent rooms at the 
Hotel de l'Odeon, Place de l'Odeon, for nearly a year. But 
our lines of study lay in entirely different fields. I followed 
Louis and Andral and Chomel in medicine ; he sought instruc- 
tion in surgery at the feet of Dupuytren, Lisfranc, Velpeau, 
and Roux, whose cliniques I never attended because it seemed 
a waste of time for me to do so. But to Mason Warren, who 
was destined to ably fill the places of his grandfather and father 
in surgery, these great Paris surgeons were of incalculable 
advantage. Moreover, as I was desirous of learning to speak 
French as soon and as thoroughly as possible, I kept aloof to 
a certain degree from all Americans, and took my meals with 
French and Swiss medical and law students. 

The result of these arrangements was that though living 
near him I rarely saw Mason, save when we accidentally met as 
neighbors. What I did know of him was always agreeable and 
of excellent tone, if I may so speak. No one ever heard aught 
against him. On the contrary, the record of his life, as written 
in the minds of all of us, was that of a pure-minded, earnest 



270 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

youth, devoted to the high purpose of a thorough surgical edu- 
cation. This was in 1832 and 183B ; and of all those Americans 
who were students with us, the memory of no one is sweeter 
than that I have of him. 

After our return home we went on together always harmoni- 
ously, and in Mason's skill as a surgeon I had unbounded confi- 
dence after the following incident. 

I had a very severe case of croup, — a child of one of my 
most intimate friends. An operation was needed, and as a mat- 
ter of course I called upon Mason's father, Dr. John C. Warren, 
whom I had always looked upon as equal, if not superior, to any 
surgeon I had met, not only in America but in Europe. I sup- 
posed that, as I had requested, he would operate ; and to my 
astonishment, not to use a stronger term, I saw the father, after 
making all arrangements for the operation, and without a single 
word of counsel from me, resign the scalpel into the hands of 
my young friend. It was too late to protest, and I simply 
thought within myself, " I put the responsibility on you, sir ; 
and there it rests, even if you operate through the hands of 
another." But my satisfaction was more than I can express 
when I observed the skill of hand and perfect self-possession of 
Mason. His father knew to whom he could trust. 

For myself I always, after that incident, called upon the 
junior, and he never failed to come up to my idea of the perfect 
surgeon. 

Mason, I think, had another quality which is too often want- 
ing in men skilled in any department ; namely, a power of look- 
ing at dispassionately and deciding with fairness upon ideas and 
plans of action differing from those usually employed by himself 
and by other professional men, and to which, in fact, the general 
rules of our art were opposed. 

I experienced his kindly courtesy and his willingness to 
inquire into a new subject very soon after I began operating 
upon the chest for removal of fluid therefrom by means of the 
delicate instrument suggested by Dr. Morrill Wyman. I knew 
that surgery did not uphold me, and I knew also that the usual 
operation for thoracentesis, as performed by surgeons, would 
not answer my purpose, which was to get fluid from the chest 
by a simple, comparatively easy and innocent process, instead 
of the bloody operation by scalpel. 



LETTER FROM DR. BOWDITCH. 271 

Mason had seen this latter operation done by his father on 
one of my patients at the hospital. When I commenced ope- 
rating, Mason, as I have stated, treated my suggestion with 
candor, and asked to be allowed to see me do it. I was no 
surgeon ; but I felt compelled to operate, because the surgeons, 
except Dr. Wyman, opposed the plan. Mason, I may say, was 
the only professed surgeon who at first after seeing the process 
heartily sustained it, instead of ridiculing or ignoring it, as the 
chief surgeons of that day did. They all use Wyman's method 
now at first, though in chronic cases they use the scalpel. 

I felt very grateful to Mason. I mention the fact simply to 
illustrate a trait in his character. It showed alike his kindness 
of heart and also his ability to look at more sides than one of 
any question. 

During his long illness we all pitied him because we more 
than respected him. 

I look back now with poignant regret at the thought that 
what I supposed was the result of a partial weakness of mind 
and of hypochondriasis was in reality only a desire to save 
himself from excruciating pains incident to that fatal complaint 
which finally caused his death after years of suffering. 

I am sorry that I cannot give you anything of real value ; but 
perhaps what I have written may suggest a thought or two to 
aid you in your undertaking. If in any way I can further aid 
you by conversation, I shall be happy to do so. A talk upon 
Mason Warren's life, and of his many gentle and excellent 
qualities, would always suggest to me pleasant and kindly 
thoughts, although perhaps at times accompanied with pain 
at the remembrance of his persistent suffering and ill-health. 
I remain respectfully yours, 

Henry I. Bowditch. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

DR. WARREN'S CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS. — HIS HIGH IDEAL. 

PROFESSIONAL RELATIONS. — PECULIAR MERITS BOTH 

AS SURGEON AND PHYSICIAN. AT THE HOSPITAL. 

TREATMENT OF HIS PATIENTS AND THEIR ATTACHMENT 
TO HIM. TENDERNESS OF HEART. 

The numerous friends, professional and other, whom 
Dr. Warren gathered about him during his successful 
career, ever recognized, and the world at large gladly 
acknowledged, those sterling virtues with which he was 
so richly endowed. In life he ever stood prominently 
before them as the model of a manly character. Born 
under the smiles of fortune ; enjoying the prestige of 
long-descended repute, ample talents, wealth, and social 
position, he regarded all these but as means to an end, 
and that a worthy one. They were but incentives to a 
noble goal, a goal of grander proportions and more diffi- 
cult attainment from his own sense of responsibility for 
all the advantages he had inherited. His ideal was the 
natural offspring of his character, and he never forgot that 
all the more was expected of him from the very fact 
that fate had placed him on a higher pedestal than others. 
His love for his profession was such as neither furious 
tempests nor soft seductions could quench ; and it quick- 
ened and inspired his life to the end with an enthusiasm 
which triumphed over failing health, acute pain, and a 
growing weakness that daily brought him nearer and 
nearer to inevitable death. 

His energy with all its fervor was guided to great re- 
sults by a judgment that was ever sound, penetrating, and 



MENTAL GRASP. 273 

broad in its grasp of facts. His mind took in everything 
essential at a glance, and flashed through a rapid and 
shrewd analysis of the conditions displayed before him. 
Hardly any aspect of mental or bodily defect was hidden 
from his insight. Widely ranging, his intellectual vision 
saw every detail ; and he quietly planned the future, like a 
general overlooking the field where glory is to be reaped 
on the morrow. With him no seed failed to germinate. 
But few years of active labor were needed to enrich him 
with a depth of experience which brought forth fruit an 
hundred fold, and ripened his judgment till it achieved 
notable effects from afar, and obstacles of forbidding mien 
bowed to the maturity of a perception almost unerring. 1 
Though confidently relying upon the past, he was provi- 
dent of the future, and had ever ready abundant resources 
against that pressure of events which none can foresee, 
and those possible disasters from which few are exempt. 
Even when aware of an impending crisis, the cool com- 
mand of self for which he was so noted did not waver; 
and this calmness in extremity of itself did much to en- 
courage those who had good reason to prepare for death. 

It can be truly said of Dr. Warren that he never sought 
to advance himself by any adventitious aids, nor did he 
need them. Though quite willing in his own way to ap- 
pear in certain contrasts with the rest of the fraternity, 
he disdained to employ for this purpose any unbecoming 
arts. Naturally responsive to high-minded impulses, he 
rejected with light scorn whatever failed to reach the 
height of his ideal. All external wiles he could afford to 
ignore, as he did every form of eccentricity, or of coldly 
calculating pretence to that which was not. Prompt to 

1 This is mentioned by Dr. Bowditch in the letter before quoted: "Mason, I 
think, had another quality which is too often wanting in men skilled in any depart- 
ment ; namely, a power of looking at dispassionately and deciding with fairness upon 
ideas and plans of action differing from those usually employed by himself and by 
other professional men, and to which, in fact, the general rules of our art were 
opposed." 

18 



274 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

assert such rights as were properly his, he never at- 
tempted to challenge the popular esteem by proclama- 
tion of his own merits, by flippant innuendoes, or jealous 
depreciation of his brethren, such as the leaders of the 
faculty in France were wont to employ. In his strong, 
compact, and vigorous nature there was no room for petty 
meannesses. Open as the day, with nothing to conceal, 
with no dark background of ignoble mystery or unmean- 
ing artifice, candid and bold, he was a man to live with 
and find no taint. No undue pride tarnished the success 
that so early attended him. He sought to rule solely by 
his own desert and by gentle influences, as one to whom 
all harshness or dictation was repulsive in the extreme. 
Singularly accessible, though screened from undue famil- 
iarity by a self-respecting reserve which was one of his 
peculiar attributes, from the very first he made himself 
beloved by every member of his profession, both old and 
young. To the former he was deferential and concilia- 
tory ; to the latter invariably helpful, omitting no oppor- 
tunity to gain their confidence and show the real depth 
of his friendly interest. To them he seemed a very prince 
among surgeons, and none the less that his courteous man- 
ners and easy good-breeding did much towards toning 
down their often inborn roughness. Of rising talent 
he displayed no envy, nor was he capable of feeling it. 
Fresh and ardent aspirants in his profession were cordially 
cheered by well-placed encouragement, and not disheart- 
ened by derogatory remarks or carping criticism. 

Gifted with a sensible apprehension of true progress, 
he saw the right way with penetrating insight, and eagerly, 
though with caution, pressed forward therein, seeking to 
lead others with steady step. Sensibly liberal, he was yet 
no radical. This was made plain at the time of the dis- 
covery of the anaesthetic value of ether. His course, 
when brought face to face with this new revelation of im- 
munity to man, was that which might justly have been 



SOUND JUDGMENT AND COUKTESY. 275 

inferred from his rare wisdom and enlightenment. Real- 
izing in the full richness of their scope the blessings that 
had hitherto lain dormant, bat were now suddenly out- 
spread before him, like a second land of promise, his nim- 
ble, quick, and forgetive spirit gladly aided in imparting 
them to the world, though his wonted prudence forbade 
all haste or show of rashness. While none could discern 
more clearly than himself the possibilities of this dawning 
future, none could temper their dazzling brightness with a 
healthier discretion or a keener tact. This may serve as 
one of the more prominent instances of that stimulus, 
wholesome and well directed, which he so frequently 
gave to his profession, — a stimulus which few sensible 
souls could resist, and which to this day invigorates his 
memory and quickens it with an ever growing life in 
the minds of those who have the well-being of humanity 
at heart. 

Never did any successful practitioner excite less envy 
or personal jealousy than Dr. Warren. There was among 
his associates no feeling of pique or expression of dispar- 
agement at his prosperity. Such feelings could hardly 
exist in presence of his genial spirit of conciliation and 
utter lack of assumption. When with his professional 
brethren, he claimed to be simply a gentleman among 
gentlemen. His easy suavity and good temper, his defer- 
ential courtesy of manner, placed all on a common level 
of consideration ; and when he differed from them, as he 
not unfrequently did, though he resolutely held his own, 
it was with an affability which disarmed resentment, 
while it mellowed and refined all the crudeness of active en- 
mity. Self-assertion in his case came not from vanity, but 
from that firmness of reliance which is born of conscious 
strength, and is less likely for that very reason to give 
offence. With him courage, self-poise, and thorough train- 
ing early developed into a maturity and solidity of idea 
which never failed to offer the suggestion of high achieve- 






276 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

ment and of great resources in the background, and none 
the less that they were well supported by that sound dis- 
cernment of character which generally accompanies a 
large heart, and in him had been self-elaborated by culture 
and experience. Loving his life's labor with a quiet and 
ever youthful enthusiasm, he was always drawn on and on, 
out of the frivolous present into the serious future ; and 
his regard for his profession forbade him to be ever look- 
ing over its edge for something easier and more pleasing. 
Crowning the narrow and simple path of duty, he saw the 
encouraging vista of a renown that from its desert would 
be the more satisfactory when attained. Always progres- 
sive, he realized the truth of Rousseau's maxim, "La 
verite est dans les choses et non dans mon esprit qui les 
juge." By no means the least of the many wise results to 
which constant reflection led him was the gradual dimi- 
nution in the quantity of medicine he prescribed, and 
his constantly increasing faith in the vis medicatrix 
naturce. 

Responsive to the suggestions of a nature truly noble, 
Dr. Warren disdained everything base. From his own 
lofty ideal he calmly overlooked the weaknesses of others. 
Making no secret of his profession, he freely explained 
whatever might seem intricate, imparting with ample 
liberality from his own resources, and ready to assist any 
and all deserving claimants to the extent of his ability. 
Possessing an innate sense of justice and a far-sighted 
perception of merit in others, he acknowledged this 
promptly, and especially in those younger or less favored 
than himself, thus often helping to smooth paths strewn 
with obstacles to fruitful progress. His was a soul teem- 
ing with healthy impulses, and of a peerless fidelity, 
which elevated even the daily duties of life into a pure 
and reviving atmosphere. Justly led to believe in his 
own inspirations, he depended upon them with a growing 
firmness. With their shining in his heart he enjoyed an 



SURGICAL QUALITIES. 277 

ever growing peace, whatever outward friction might 
tend to raise or depress him. 1 

Dr. Warren was equally eminent, both as surgeon and 
physician, — a union seldom encountered, since few are 
so constituted that the qualities needed for success in the 
one calling do not tend to prevent, to a certain degree, 
distinction in the other. Only minds of large and un- 
usual calibre can expect to excel equally in a profession 
that demands a quick grasp of the situation, promptness 
of action, a certain mechanical dexterity, a skilful hand, 
and the coolest of nerves, joined at times to a seeming 
if not actual harshness and cruelty, and in one where 
softness of demeanor, slow studies of mysterious and con- 
tradictory symptoms, nice detection of possible progress, 
and long and earnest reflection on constitutional peculiar- 
ities are the essential elements of success. As to his dis- 
tinction as a surgeon, the simple mention thereof will 
suffice to bring clearly before the mind of every reader 
of this work a hundred illustrations in proof of its uni- 
versal admission. " He always came up to my idea of a 
perfect surgeon,' , wrote Dr. Bowditch ; and no utterance 
could be more completely satisfactory than this, especially 
to those who bear in mind that it came from a brother 
practitioner who has been so greatly praised himself. It 
is a further instance of the fact that Dr. Warren was not 
only one of whom his associates could feel no jealousy, 
but one whom it was a peculiar pleasure to enrich with 
their own commendation. In every phase of his profes- 
sional work he was invariably master of himself, and 

1 Dr. Warren's sense of justice took a wide range, and often led to acts which 
failed to harmonize exactly with the general tone of his sympathies. He invari- 
ably tried to do that which was right, whatever might be the conflict with his own 
opinions, professional, political, religious, or other. On one occasion of much civic 
excitement in regard to an approaching election, he observed to a friend, "I find 
the name of a black man on my ticket. I don't think I can quite swallow him. I 
shall make some inquiries." Coming home shortly after, he said, " Well, I made 
my inquiries, and swallowed the whole prescription, as I discovered that the black 
man was the best one on the ticket." 



278 JONATHAN MASON WAKREN. 

therefore of the position. His grasp of all attending 
circumstances was quick and complete. His hand, Vin- 
strument des instruments, was admirably adapted by its form 
and play to give expression to his mental workings. 
It was hardly broader than his wrist, the remarkable 
width of which enabled him easily to command fingers 
that were long, slender, and of peculiar flexibility, radi- 
ating from such a strong point d'appui. They were the 
fit and necessary agents in the performance of many 
operations where coolness of nerve and soundness of 
judgment must inevitably be followed by rapidity of 
execution, if success were to be expected. This was 
especially the case before the discovery of ether, when 
celerity of movement was more indispensable than now 
and one might say absolutely so to a nature like that of 
Dr. Warren, who was ever sensitive to pain and trouble. 
Though the sight of the acute anguish caused him much 
distress, he did not allow it to unman him ; yet there 
were occasions when this might have occurred had not 
stern self-control and concentration of power been sup- 
plemented by the most agile and dexterous co-operation 
of the hands. Thus he was able to reduce to its mini- 
mum the pain he could not wholly prevent, and, impelled 
by generous motives, kept himself free from that hard- 
ness of nature and loss of sympathy which his profession 
appears unavoidably to develop in many of its members. 
And such he always continued to be. Aware that it was 
his mission to save life, he sought to effect this with the 
least possible suffering to those who resorted to him ; and 
so a life that was at all times broad in its aims broadened 
likewise in its tenderness of feeling. 1 

1 Of Dr. Warren's skill and rapidity many instances are related. A patient 
called with a tumor on his head. The Doctor examined, took his instruments, and 
to the anxious watcher seemed carefully preparing himself for the operation. At 
length the patient said, " Well, Doctor, are n't you about ready to begin ? " "It is 
all done," was the reply of the operator, who had removed the tumor, and was 
already putting his implements away in their cases. 

In a note to the writer of this memoir, Dr. John Ellis Blake, a former pupil of 



AT THE HOSPITAL. 279 

During all his long connection as visiting surgeon with 
the Massachusetts General Hospital, where Dr. Warren 
gave so much of the best that was in him, nothing could 
exceed his popularity. His large acquirements, his dex- 
terity of hand, his ready sympathies, were at the service 
of all indifferently ; and not these alone, but he was 
equally lavish of those engaging attentions which made 
him so welcome to patients who had apparently stronger 
claims upon him. That the greater part of the hospital 
inmates were needy, and of a lower station than his own, 
was nothing to him, and nowise influenced his treatment 
of them. He shrank from no exertion in their behalf, 
and the very helplessness and destitution he so often wit- 
nessed among them but served to commend them the 
more urgently to his good offices. Many were the words 
of cheer that he dispensed as he moved from bed to bed, 
from ward to ward. They were but the dictates of a 
natural kindliness which flowed with the sunny brightness 
of running water. Nor did his care of his patients cease 
with the performance of his more essential duties. Those 
on whom he had operated continued the objects of his 
interest till it was no longer needed. He was by no 
means satisfied to leave them to the ordinary attendants, 
but he made a practice of visiting them soon again, that 
he might satisfy himself as to their condition and see 
that nought was lacking for their comfort. Not unfre- 
quently he took them flowers, or other little offerings 
that might please and encourage. Later in life it was 
his habit to bring his children with him on these occa- 

Dr. Warren, says : " His manner to all, high and low, was most courteous and 
gentle, inspiring confidence at once. The best interests of the patients were with 
him always the paramount consideration, and he would never sacrifice them to any 
desire for personal fame. I remember once, at a time when there were present by 
invitation a number of distinguished surgeons from other cities, he postponed an 
operation which could not have failed to show his skill in the most favorable 
light, because the patient was a little indisposed. He was unwilling, from any mo- 
tive of self-interest, to endanger the patient's chances of recovery. The operation 
was afterwards done most successfully in the presence of the hospital staff only." 



280 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

sions, partly from fondness for their company, partly from 
their inspiriting effect on the sufferers. " Come, my little 
ladies," he would say in his blithe and sportive tones, 
" shall we go and see how the patients are getting on ? " 
And off they would start on their errand of mercy. 

As a physician Dr. Warren possessed a remarkable 
sense of the peculiar ailments of his patients and a 
shrewd appreciation of their symptoms. His diagnosis 
was generally rapid and correct, and often resulted from 
some crucial test on which his observation had taught 
him to rely. This arose not more from long experience 
than from quickness of perception that had been stimula- 
ted by his own delicate organization and uncertain health. 
The aptitude with which he detected the special troubles 
and wants of his patients was accompanied by an equal 
aptitude for relieving them. Especially was this true of 
those minor discomforts which are the source of perpetual 
irritation, and can yet be remedied by tact and discern- 
ment. As a nurse no one could be more efficient than 
he in the proffer of those little alleviations which, through 
their apparent insignificance, are so seldom estimated at 
their true value, and yet are so grateful to the ailing. 
He never overlooked the import of these slight atten- 
tions, but estimated them at their real value, being con- 
scious, moreover, that what is worth doing at all is worth 
doing well. His influence over those who sought his 
advice was both strong and lasting. They became his 
friends from the first, and generally, in the end, his ad- 
mirers ; and the attachment thus based on both love and 
esteem almost inevitably endured to the end. He was 
not one to weaken the connection by any act of his, since 
he was not only professionally true to his patients, but 
was the very soul of honor as well, and scorned all fur- 
tive or devious ways. 

In the society of one so beaming with comfort, so 
ready to point out the silver lining of that cloud which 



DEFERENCE TO PATIENTS. 281 

often overhangs and darkens our poor humanity, there 
were not many who could fail, for the time at least, to 
detect a brighter dawning beyond all the depression that 
blackened their lives. Nor did his patients yield less 
surely and pleasurably to that tact which Dr. Warren ever 
evinced, — a tact which silently admitted that the patient 
was for the moment, whatever his position, on the same 
level as himself, and was entitled to that urbanity and 
consideration which were so peculiarly his own. He was 
a gentleman ministering of his best to gentlemen or 
ladies; and all breathed while he attended upon them the 
same fine air as himself, the effluence of hereditary cour- 
tesy and good taste. He dispensed a grateful aroma of 
old-time affability, flavored by a sympathy the fervor 
and sincerity of which none were disposed to question. 
However pressing the claims upon his time, or with 
whatever authority these might be urged, an inherent 
conscientiousness would not suffer him to tender less than 
full justice to all, or to refuse to any one, however humble 
might be his class or condition, the courtesy that he felt 
to be his due ; nor was this courtesy suffered to degen- 
erate into the frigid and conventional civilities that so 
often wait upon a fee, but had all the aspect of a personal 
concern, and was utterly void of any sign of rigor or 
dictation. Often his patient was favored with a witty 
bon-mot or lively anecdote, of which he had good store. 
When he had thus smoothed the way, and done his best 
to excite a gayer feeling and a partial oblivion of trouble, 
he would say, " Now what is the matter, and what can I 
do for you ? " His very prescriptions at times were leav- 
ened with fun and humor, which would bubble up like a 
never-failing spring of cooling and refreshing vigor. He 
had a clear perception of the value of cheerfulness as an 
aid towards the recovery of health. No one understood 
better than he that a sad countenance invites failure, and 
presages funereal trappings and suits of woe. Even in 



282 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

her earliest infancy, medical experience had discovered 
this truth. The oldest manuscript yet found records the 
saying of the Egyptian physician, " Let thy face be 
cheerful as long as thou livest ; has any one come out of 
the coffin after having once entered it ? " Dr. Warren 
was an obvious contradiction of the French theory that 
his profession was "le plus triste des metiers." Even 
when racked with pain himself, he never ceased to display 
that all-pervading genial smile which by its mild lustre 
disclosed a heart ever ready to revive and console. 
However serious the condition of the sick one, he never 
allowed himself to assume an expression of sadness ; and 
this no less from natural temperament than from policy, 
and an inherent sagacity which was daily 'strengthened 
by the results of his experience. 1 

It frequently happened that long attachment begot 
other confidences than those usually reposed in a physi- 
cian, and he became the recipient of numerous secrets of 
importance from those who had learned to esteem his 
judgment and saw the worth of his advice. Such confi- 
dences he was careful to guard with diligence and use 
with caution, well aware that any indiscreet employment 
thereof might entail irreparable mischief, alarm, and 
expense. Many were the tokens bestowed upon him by 
those who had profited, either professionally or other- 
wise, by his sound sense and skill, and desired to offer a 

1 Of the Rev. Mr. Nathanael Williams, who in 1703 was appointed master of the 
Latin School — " the then only Publick and Free Grammar School of this Great 
Town ; the Principal School of the British Colonies, if not of all America " — 
and who still continued to practise as a physician, it was said : " He was much 
concerned for all his Patients, tender of them, careful in attending them, made 
up his more important Medicines with his own Hands ; gave those whom he 
tho't proper, wise and pious Counsels ; and at their Desire often added his suit- 
able & gracious Prayers in their dying Sicknesses. He helped the Families of 
his Pastors and the Poor Gratis; and yet as careful of them, as if he had his 
Fees. And how encouraging his lively Voice & Countenance when he came into 
our Chambers ! They did good like a Medicine, revived our Spirits and lightened 
our Maladies." — Funeral Sermon by Rev. Thomas Prince, M.A. Delivered Jan. 
15, 1738. 



GRATEFUL TOKENS. 283 

permanent recognition thereof. 1 These took various 
forms, according to the taste or means of the donors; and 
Dr. Warren's family still preserve numerous works of art 
in gold, silver, bronze, or other material, wrought into 
shapes of beauty well pleasing to a cultivated mind. 
From Mrs. Isaac P. Davis came a valuable picture by an 
old Spanish master ; from another friend a group exqui- 
sitely modelled in bronze by Barbedienne ; from a third, 
a statuette of Lorenzo de' Medici ; from another, a silver 
dish of great value and elegance. The relatives of 
Daniel Webster presented him with a handsome salver of 
solid silver, as an acknowledgment of those assiduities 
which he was so glad to bestow on their illustrious father 
during his last illness. These and various other remind- 
ers of the deference and affection paid to Dr. Warren are 
now guarded by his children as heirlooms to be forever 
cherished. 2 

Nor was the high opinion of Dr. Warren which was 
entertained by those who were able to offer such costly 

1 Not a few families had been from one generation to another under the care of 
the Warrens, so that they might almost have been termed the hereditary patients 
of Dr. Mason Warren. In such cases as these the mutual interest was firm and 
deep, and rarely did it succumb to any alien influence. Under date of Oct. 29, 
1865, Dr. Warren writes in his journal : " Mrs. Doggett says that her grandmother 
was attended by Gen. Joseph Warren, her mother by John Warren, and she has 
been attended by my father and myself. She is eighty-four years old, and still 
well. Took Collins to see her." 

2 The reader may not be uninterested to learn that Dr. Warren's fees were 
unusually small, and to the practitioners of this generation would appear in many 
instances absurdly so. He disliked anything like an undue estimate of his abili- 
ties, and really charged much less than others for his professional work. When 
his health began to fail, and it was suggested by some of his intimate friends among 
the fraternity that he ought to ask more and work less, he peremptorily refused 
even to take it into consideration. He derived one of his choicest pleasures from 
the gratified and unconcealed delight manifested by some at the small amount of 

their bills. In his journal one reads: "1859, Nov. 17. — Rev. Dr. left me 

yesterday well, and insisted on paying me one hundred and fifty dollars, though 
I asked him only fifty." One day a Western man came in, and after finding great 
relief from a somewhat complicated operation, expressed his astonishment at the 
small amount of the fee required. It was but ten dollars, and to pay it he pro- 
duced two bills of fifty dollars each, evidently expecting to have been called upon 
for both of them. Instances like these were very liberally scattered along Dr. 
Warren's path to the end of his days. 



284 JONATHAN" MASON WARREN. 

gifts in any degree lessened by their knowledge that he 
was just to all, and quite as willing to bestow his skill 
and his kindly attentions upon the poor as well as upon 
the rich. To the former he was in fact particularly cour- 
teous and generous, abounding in provisions for their com- 
fort and never overlooking even the humblest of them. 
He assumed no airs of patronage, but, careful of their 
feelings, treated them with a politeness — that true po- 
liteness which, like great thoughts, comes from the heart — 
which increased their self-respect while it did not lower 
his own, since it made them sensible of a common man- 
hood and tended to raise them to a higher self-respect. 
Understanding that which was due to himself, Dr. Warren 
was equally mindful of that which was due to others, and 
was prompt to render it. He had in perfection the art 
of rendering to every one what was socially his right, and 
in any company where he might be placed was the mas- 
ter of an easy good-breeding. The gratitude of his less 
prosperous patients was very agreeable to Dr. Warren, 
and was displayed with as great strength and frequency 
by them as by others more favored. They could not 
present him with silver or gold, but they were ready to 
manifest their thanks by such means as they possessed. 
Now and again messages quivering with fluent gratitude 
would come to him from one or another of his beneficia- 
ries ; at times halting lines of uncouth though expressive 
poetry, or letters quaintly worded but rich with affluence 
of creditable feeling. In these he would often find a 
quiet enjoyment, flowing both from the fervor of their 
acknowledgments and from the unwitting drollery of 
their style and language. Says one : — 

" All I can offer is my fervent thanks and deep and heartfelt 
gratitude, which will cease only with my life. If the conscious- 
ness that you will always live in the hearts of those who 
through your benevolence have been raised from despondency 
and made to rejoice can afford you satisfaction, it is yours." 



LETTER. 285 

To this it may not be amiss to add one further testi- 
mony to the excellences of Dr. Warren's character, the 
interest in which is not a little increased by the thought 
that it was written in the face of impending death. 

Dr. Warren: 

Dear Sir, — I feel as if I could not die without expressing 
some of the feelings which I have toward you. Your kindness 
and attention to our family, the sympathy always expressed (to 
say nothing of your generosity), have made you in my eyes, 
even from a child, the object of heartfelt respect and sincere 
affection. Your kind attentions to my brothers, and, above all, 
to my mother, now that they have gone, I have thought of much 
in this my last sickness ; and as to-day is the last that I expect 
to see on earth I cannot refrain from leaving this line for you. 

When I saw your name among those who so narrowly escaped 
death on the Norwalk Railroad, and that you sailed in the steamer 
which followed the ill-fated " Arctic " rather than in her, I could 
not but feel that if guardian angels are appointed to watch over 
those loved on earth, some of my family were among those per- 
mitted by God to watch over you, and I well know they would 
want no more welcome mission. 

I have been very sick the past month. Great would have 
been the comfort to me to have seen you, and have had your 
skill and experience in my case, which has been peculiar in many 
of its features ; but I could not think of taxing you with all 
your cares to come out and see me. 

I can leave no better wish for you and yours than that the 
same glorious hope which has sustained me in my sufferings, and 
renders this the happiest day of my life, may be yours when 
called to that hour to which I am now looking forward. 
With much love I am your faithful friend, 



Brookline, Feb. 26, 1855. 

Dr. Warren's constant tenderness of heart made him 
peculiarly sensible to every form of misery or sorrow. 
Each example of this which came under his notice im- 
pressed him as a sort of personal appeal which he found 
it almost impossible to resist, nor, had he been able to 



286 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

resist, would he have done so, as a liberal charity was with 
him a matter of conscience. His purse, his tongue, his 
skilful hand, his generous sympathies, were invariably at 
the service of poverty, sickness, or other phase of human 
distress. Not a ripple of trouble moved across his vision 
that he did not try to still it. Many a time and oft it was 
his fortune to excite in natures apparently apathetic a 
torrent of feeling that would find vent in burning lan- 
guage which through the fulness of its utterance would 
show how deeply the heart had been touched, both by his 
well-directed energy and by his cordial and sincere benefi- 
cence. Having once been summoned to the help of an 
Irish boy whose hip had been dislocated while trying to 
save a child from a runaway horse, Dr. Warren performed 
the operation with his usual success, setting the bone, and 
doing all in his power to allay the pain and to comfort the 
fears of the sufferer. Not satisfied with this, as he noticed 
that the boy had more intelligence than most of his class, 
he explained with much minuteness the nature of the in- 
jury, and instructed him how to favor the injured part 
and thus aid his recovery ; afterwards even showing him 
a skeleton that he might more clearly comprehend the 
anatomy of his body. All this he did in an interested and 
enthusiastic way that revealed his native goodness of heart, 
and actually drew tears of gratitude from the poor fellow's 
eyes in acknowledgment of a kindness such as he had 
never before witnessed, still less experienced. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

DR. WARREN'S YOUTHFUL SYMPATHIES. HIS CHILDREN. 

"MOUNT WARREN." — AN IDEAL HOME. HIS SENSE 

OF HUMOR AND DESCRIPTIVE POWERS. — DROLLERIES 

OF PATIENTS. AN ADMIRABLE STORY-TELLER. THE 

THURSDAY EVENING CLUB. — RESEMBLANCE TO DR. 
JOHN WARREN. 

Dr. Warren retained to the end of his days a large 
share of that simple childlike nature which has so often 
been observed in eminent men from the remotest times, 
and which had been characteristic of him from his youth. 
The company of children pleased him well, and he derived 
a peculiar gratification from listening to their droll re- 
marks and studying their ways. With a relish that never 
tired he loved to unbend in their society for the moment 
and become himself a child. He always had " a great 
dash of the boy" still in him, — the outcome of perennial 
youth of mind, of heart, of soul. Its development caused 
him rare and healthy delight. With the young he was as 
popular as with those of his own age. They liked him, 
and gladly received him at once into their little confi- 
dences, expanding in the sunlight of his genial nature, 
and overflowing with returning love for the attentions he 
bestowed upon them. Nor was there in all this inter- 
course aught undignified or puerile, nor did he cease to 
win their respect, though for the time he and they were 
on an equal footing of cordiality and friendship. Their 
sports drew forth his lively consideration ; and especially 
did he unite in their love of the country and the myriad 



288 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

phases of rural life, so dear to all of tender years, with its 
birds and butterflies, its flowers and greenness. He knew 
well how to treat children, and all his dealings showed a 
remarkable knowledge of their often peculiar tempera- 
ments. As to boys, no one could excel his apprehension 
of their quick susceptibilities, of their precocious manli- 
ness, of all their mysterious ways and oddities. He fre- 
quently paid tribute to the justice of Juvenal's sentiment, 
" Maxima debetur puero reverentia." 

" If you wish to find out anything," he was wont to 
say, u stop and ask a boy." Having a quick sagacity of 
observation and rare experience of humanity, he would 
early detect in a boy or girl many a sign of promise, 
hidden from one less keen, which would be vindicated in 
the growth of years. 

Dr. Warren's children from the very dawn of their in- 
fancy were the light of his life. The affectionate rela- 
tions which existed between him and them were charming 
to witness. They daily renewed his youth and brightened 
with their vivacity a mind at times oppressed with care 
and dulled by the increasing routine of an exacting and 
toilsome profession. At home or abroad they were never 
out of his mind ; and whenever he could manage to do 
this, he was accustomed to take one or more of them with 
him on his visits in the suburbs of Boston. He watched 
the unfolding of their characters with a tender solicitude, 
as when one bends over the bud of some favorite plant 
about to expand its delicate petals ; and, like the sun, he 
sought to warm them with his love, and by every fond 
allurement to nourish their unformed natures into purity, 
grace, and symmetry. Nothing gave him more unalloyed 
satisfaction than to detect some new sign of their progress 
in the path that he had marked out for them. This he 
was prompt to recognize ; and he would often, after it had 
become habitual, call attention thereto and strive to fix it 
firmly in the memory by a happy and encouraging epi- 



ATTACHMENT TO HIS CHILDREN. 289 

thet. One of his daughters he termed his " little mother," 
thus seeking to show his appreciation of her prudent man- 
agement in his household, and her mature, womanly char- 
acter; and yet again, on account of her tranquillizing 
influence over the family, he called her " the peacemaker." 
So closely was his existence blended with that of his 
children that the veriest trifle was endeared to him by 
their use thereof, and no article was too trivial for him to 
preserve as a souvenir of their past. 1 The toys that had 
once belonged to them, the books they had read, trifling 
portions of their dress, retained in his eyes a certain pre- 
ciousness and sanctity long after their owners had done 
with them ; and many of these he would put away in 
a safe nook, where he could occasionally meet with 
them, like little oases to cheer his pilgrimage. Their 
first odd little attempts at drawing or poetry, and divers 
other offerings by which they manifested their affection 
on memorable days, he carefully pasted in an album for 
future reference. All such objects had to him a vital 
meaning, and never ceased to unfold whole realms of 
enjoyment. 

He derived a choice gratification from having his por- 
trait taken with those of his children — daguerreotype, 
ambrotype, photograph, or what not, he had tried them 



1 This affectionate interest steadily increased with age, and his growing family- 
gave him daily renewed opportunities of displaying it in innumerable forms, and 
thus showing his healthy temperament and his capacity for pure and simple pleas- 
ures. The only grandchild born during his life was welcomed as a fresh object 
of love and devotion, and in his journal one reads his name with a frequency that 
reveals the continual presence of the child in his mind. "June 5, 18G6. — Baby 
dined with us on Saturday, and after dinner I told him to look out into the street 
and see what was there. ' A pony ! ' he exclaimed. I took him downstairs, and he 
got on to the little broad-backed creature, with a new saddle and bridle which I had 
bought at Bailey's in the morning. He is one of the English Exmouth breed, and 
very tame. He rode at once down Beacon Street, with the groom leading him, to 
visit his friends. He said he had been 'pulling bones' (wishing-bones) for two 
years for him." " Baby " was to him a source of perennial delight. A few 
weeks before his death he wrote in his journal: "May 26th. — Mrs. Hammond 
and Baby dined with us ; and his pony, Scamper, which I gave him about a year 
ago, was brought up for him after dinner." 

19 



290 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

all — in every possible style, dress, attitude, expression, 
or combination that could be suggested by the taste 
of the artist or by his own ingenuity. It was a sort of 
chronic domestic dissipation, and the evidences thereof 
now existing are innumerable. One of these represents the 
father, mother, and all their offspring then living, except 
their son who was in Europe, under the guise of " Mount 
Warren." They formed a pyramidal group, of which his 
own head served as the apax, while a space, cunningly 
contrived to be of the right proportions, was reserved for 
the absent one. This amusing and felicitous illustration 
of the family union was a great favorite with Dr. Warren 
among the abundant groups in his possession ; and it was 
pleasant to notice the affectionate and complacent pride 
with which he looked upon it, none the less in all proba- 
bility from the tinge of melancholy suggested by the fact 
that the name it bore was likewise that of the lot in the 
cemetery at Forest Hills, where he and they all one day 
might hope to repose in peace together. 

With a father so devoted and so full of thoughtful care 
for his household, it is not strange that the retreat Dr. 
Warren provided for his wife and children was a model 
in its every feature. Gentle influences hedged it round 
and pervaded it throughout, and there was no hindrance 
to their harmonious working. Many have striven to 
build up an ideal home, but few have been favored with 
success in this regard so completely as Dr. Warren. It 
was the natural result of his untiring efforts in that direc- 
tion, of his well-directed watchfulness, his care and tact, 
his all-pervading parental affection, — of all those qualities, 
in short, which spring up with fresh and always quick- 
ening life in the mind of one to whose happiness a well- 
ordered house is essential, and who discerns from afar the 
elements necessary to its creation. No one was more im- 
pressed than Dr. Warren with the truth of the saying that 
" People must look at home for real, substantial happiness, 



HOME PLEASURES. 291 

since it is impossible to find it for any length of time else- 
where. " Of this he himself was an obvious example, and 
he lived to prove that one may be a man of the world 
without the loss or even the diminution of his fondness for 
the pure pleasures of domestic life. 1 In his family he found 
a haven of rest, and at his fireside he enjoyed the choicest 
pleasures that the passing hours could afford. In that 
sweet seclusion his happiest days were spent in the soci- 
ety of wife and children, who were all in all to him, and 
to whom he looked, and not in vain, for a return of that 
wealth of affectionate care which he lavished on them. 
His household moved on with the regularity and precision 
of well-planned machinery, and the placid content with 
which he contemplated everything around him revealed 
his satisfaction. His tastes were simple. He liked a 
lively chat with his children, or a quiet evening with his 
wife, when he would often turn over the leaves of some 
favorite volume of engravings, works of the old masters, — 
the Dresden Gallery, for example, — in which he especially 
delighted, and call her attention to their endless beauties. 
While thus engaged he was sumptuously happy. Whether 
with one or more, he was invariably good company. Con- 
versation never languished in his presence. His very 
features and expression seemed to stimulate it, and it 
would have been impossible to sit in silence before those 
speaking eyes. He appeared to be always surrounded by 
an atmosphere of sunny gladness, which had a magnetic 

1 Not only in other features, but in affection and domestic attachment, did the 
Warrens manifest a striking family similitude. This was prominent among the 
numerous traits which served to recall the memory of Dr. John Warren in his 
grandson Mason. Said Dr. James Jackson in his eulogy of the former : " Could we 
be permitted to follow him into the sacred retreats of domestic life, and to view 
him in the delicate and endearing relations which he there sustained, his char- 
acter would swell upon the eye in colors still more rich, still more grateful. It was 
there his happiness centred. In that connection, which decides everything in re- 
spect to domestic enjoyment, he found his greatest felicity. He was truly blessed 
in a large family ; and the intercourse between parent and children was marked 
with all the tenderness of affection on his side, as it was reciprocated by the confi- 
dence and respect of sincere filial love." 



292 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

effect on others, and brought their better qualities of 
heart and mind to the surface. " The unlovely fret and 
folly of common life" retired afar off with their earthy 
and belittling friction. Nor did this depend upon extra- 
neous circumstances. Be his dwelling large or small, it 
made no difference to a nature which stood in itself col- 
lected. Over the door of his residence at No. 6 Park 
Street — a little atom of a house — might have been 
inscribed the familiar motto which Ariosto chose for his 
abode at Ferrara, " Parva sed apta mini." For the time 
being it was perfect in his estimation, and, like sunshine 
in a shady place, filled up the measure of his desires. 
Looking around him one day, his face beaming with satis- 
faction, he said, " I do not see why this is not quite equal 

to the mansion," mentioning the largest and most 

luxurious dwelling in his neighborhood. 

He had a catholic appreciation of the beautiful, under 
whatever shape it might lurk, — in the shape of woman 
or the form of man, in the faintest strain of melody or 
the humblest flower, — nor was he chary in the expression 
of his delight. His attachment for places once endeared 
to him was most tenacious, so deeply seated became feel- 
ings that had formerly excited him, and so powerfully did 
circumstances call them up again. Of the house No. 2 
Park Street, that he last occupied, he remarked, " Here 
was I born, and here will I die ; " and he derived no little 
comfort from the fact that the very room which wit- 
nessed his advent into the world would behold also his 
departure therefrom, and the close of a career which so 
fully illustrated the lines of the Persian poet, — 

" On parent knees, a naked, new-born child, 
Weeping thou sat'st, while all around thee smiled ; 
So live that, sinking to thy last long sleep, 
Calm thou mayst smile, while all around thee weep." 

To his children, and in fact to all who spent much of 
their time in his company, Dr. Warren was a continual 



TRAITS OF CHARACTER. 293 

instructor. His whole organization was so delicate, so 
nicely blended ; his character was so true, so thoroughly 
unselfish, and so entirely free from the ugly pride of 
negation ; his pure morality was so beautified by the 
invigorating verdure of good temper, — that his daily life 
wrought upon all about him by a thousand influences 
which, though unnoticed at the time, were powerful for 
good in the end. No circumstance, however annoying, — 
and there were occasions when he was sorely tried, — ever 
tempted him to the display of any vexation. His easy 
good-breeding appeared to those who knew him the 
proper issue of his amiable qualities of heart and soul, 
and notably of that sensitiveness which was so peculiarly 
his. This was almost an instinct, and in consequence 
rarely at fault, often displaying itself through a subtile 
discrimination. As he practised a temperance in all 
things, one was conscious in his presence of a powerful 
reserve of self-command. In his every action one de- 
tected a certain air which became him like a well-fitting 
garment, a lordliness that never gave offence and was 
far removed from the cold artifices of mere deportment. 
He was no Gibraltar of propriety, forbidding and repel- 
lent. He desired to do everything becomingly, and, how- 
ever slight it might appear, never failed to impress a 
character upon it. 

The unusual virtue of punctuality belonged to Dr. 
Warren in its perfection. Prompt himself to every 
engagement, as might have been inferred from his 
general moral earnestness, he could not bring him- 
self to endure tardiness in others. Under his own roof 
nothing of the sort was permitted, except from inev- 
itable obstacles, and at meals he exacted a Draconian 
attendance. Any failure in this regard he looked upon 
as both inconsiderate and discourteous. As a host and 
entertainer he was in his element. Generous by nature, 
and liberal of his purse, though with a wholesome and 



294 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

judicious retention when he thought it necessary, as of 
one who did not like to waste his money, he was able 
to maintain the full measure of a liberal and popular 
hospitality. 

Nothing adds a greater charm to the society of a well- 
bred man than a sense of humor, and of this Dr. Warren 
offered a fascinating example. In him this quality of 
mind peculiarly illustrated Lord Houghton's remark: 
" The sense of humor is the just balance of all the fac- 
ulties of man, the best security against the pride of 
knowledge and the conceits of the imagination, the 
strongest inducement to submit with a wise and pious 
patience to the vicissitudes of human existence." Dr. 
Warren's feeling for the comical aspects of human nature 
needed but little stimulus to bring it to the surface. It 
was the involuntary offspring of his own genial tempera- 
ment, and played to and fro with the easy freedom of 
heat lightning, flashing though never wounding. It was 
void of artifice, flippancy, or frivolity, and its genuine- 
ness was plain to all who shared it. Having this faculty 
well under control, and never losing his consciousness of 
self, Dr. Warren knew just how far to allow it to range, 
and was careful not to suffer it to degenerate into buf- 
foonery. Also was he sparing of everything that might 
hurt the feelings of others, or hold them up to ridicule. 
He never sacrificed his friend to his joke. Having a nice 
insight into men and things, he was the better able to 
adapt his matter to his hearers, and temper his facetious- 
ness by a due regard for their sympathies. In these 
attributes of humor and good-nature he was thoroughly 
American, and that in their most winning shape. For 
their display his practice gave him abundant and ever- 
growing opportunities, and the droll revelations of his 
patients alone would have kept him well supplied with 
illustrations of their working. The characteristics of the 
humbler class among those who resorted to him for ad- 



DESCRIPTIVE POWERS. 295 

vice fully indemnified him in many cases for the lack of 
other compensation ; and their queer evasions of propri- 
ety, their crude ideas, and the picturesque language in 
which they set before him their ailments gave him un- 
speakable delight. These peculiarities he shelved in the 
recesses of his brain for future use ; and though he lis- 
tened with commendable patience and an air of serious 
concern, one might infer from his gleaming eyes that he 
was reading their stories between the lines. When he 
was at ease with his friends these were drawn forth for 
their delectation, and certainly lost nothing in the telling. 
In bland, melodious voice he would produce them, as he 
accented every phrase with many felicities of descriptive 
fancy and graphic gestures. His whole tone and manner 
were inimitable, and those who had once listened to his 
lively descriptions were so impressed with their attrac- 
tiveness that they seldom dared to run the risk of repeat- 
ing them. While passing to and fro between Boston and 
Nahant, where he was accustomed to spend his summers, 
the little steamer was frequently the scene of these en- 
tertainments. Taking his place in a corner of the saloon, 
where he could be sheltered from any possible draught, to 
which he had an almost French or Italian aversion, he 
would quickly make himself the centre of an admiring 
knot of friends, whom he would fascinate as long as the 
voyage lasted by an incessant flow of odd anecdotes and 
funny stories, mostly from his personal experience or 
observation. In this respect, again, he recalled his dis- 
tinguished confrere, Sir Astley Cooper, whom his biog- 
rapher reports as " constantly pouring forth a fund of 
anecdote, chiefly illustrative of the scenes of his long and 
eventful life, and relating in many instances to ludicrous 
or remarkable circumstances in the history of some of 
his professional brethren, all told in such a way as to 
convince one that he possessed an innate love for fun or 
mischief, so refined, however, by benevolence as never to 



296 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

wound or tarnish the characters of those whose peculiari- 
ties or infirmities he portrayed. 1 

Dr. Warren for years attended an old gentleman liv- 
ing in his neighborhood, whose singularities appeared to 
increase with every visit. Having finally worn himself 
out with his freaks, and exhausted the patience of every 
one about him, the veteran became too infirm to quit his 
chair, where he would sit planning fresh mischief. If the 
Doctor, after listening to his various symptoms, suggested 
anything for his refreshment, as gruel, beef tea, or what- 
ever else might seem desirable, he would say, with a min- 
gled expression of malice and amiability, " Yes, Doctor, I 
will order it at once." Thereupon seizing the bell-handle, 
he would pull it to and fro and up and down pertina- 
ciously, without once relaxing his efforts till the servant, 
eager to " silence that dreadful bell," made her appear- 
ance. " You see, Doctor, I always ring till they come," 
he would invariably observe, while a grin of unspeak- 
able delight lit up his face, and seemed for the moment 
to invigorate his whole system. Ultimately this trouble- 
some old invalid was constrained to take his final refuge 
in bed, where he employed his failing intellect in devising 
new torments for his heirs and attendants. His ingenuity 
long seemed inexhaustible, though fortunately for the 
peace of the household, he was unable to get at the bell. 
At last he bethought himself of total silence as an engine 
of aggravation, and for some days not a word could be 
drawn from him by threats, cajolery, or soft persuasion. 
His children, now greatly alarmed, hung over him with 
many endearments. "Speak, dear father, if it be but 
one word," they exclaimed again and again. For days 
this obstinacy continued ; but at length his lips parted, 
and while his sorrowful issue could hardly repress the 

1 " Everything Sir Astley Cooper said and did produced a double effect from his 
manner and its accompaniments. His voice was remarkably sweet, yet sonorous. 
He was one of the handsomest men of his day, and perfectly self-possessed." — 
Address before the American Medical Association by Dr. J. C. Warren, 1850. 



ANECDOTES. 297 

eagerness of their expectation, he uttered the simple 
word * Custards ; " and this, for want of a better, his 
family were fain to accept as his last dying message, for 
he persisted to the end in refusing to impart any other. 

Dr. Warren was wont to tell a story of one of his 
female patients which afforded him much amusement at 
the time the incident occurred, and much more after- 
wards, though on some of his brethren a similar experi- 
ence might have had a different effect. For a number of 
years he had been in the habit of giving his professional 
services to a lady in reduced circumstances, whom he 
regarded as hardly able to offer him any compensation. 
At length she ceased to consult him, and he did not see 
her for a long time. Happening to meet her one day in 

the street, he accosted her : " Why, Mrs. , what has 

become of you that you have not been near me for so 
many months ? " To which she replied, with naive sim- 
plicity, " Well, the fact is, Dr. Warren, I did n't seem to 
gain very much, and so I thought I'd consult a pay- 
doctor." As this answer put an effectual stop to further 
colloquy, the parties separated, though Dr. Warren re- 
tained a gleeful recollection of the affair to the last, and 
often narrated it with much zest. 

Dr. Warren's reputation as a raconteur held its own 
to the last, while his large and ever-widening experience 
daily increased it. Being very sensitive to new impres- 
sions, and favored with a prompt appreciation of any 
eccentricity, his supply of novelties in that field never 
dwindled ; all the more, from the great variety of people 
with whom he was necessarily brought in contact. Later 
in life he was wont to speak, as he wrote, in short, com- 
pact, incisive sentences, well packed with the material 
which his tenacious memory and ready sympathies 
enabled him to keep ready for instant use. An earnest, 
persuasive delivery, a bland and harmonious voice, united 
to a refined air and a genial smile, gave his utterance a 



298 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

vitality of its own. Never was he more entirely himself 
than when he thus poured forth his mind at his own table, 
and the pellucid current of his thought flowed full and 
free. Though he could not excel as a lecturer on account 
of the long-continued strain upon his vocal organs, yet 
on other occasions and with a less numerous audience he 
was wont to speak with much effect and not a little elo- 
quence ; the more so that experience had taught him to 
economize his voice and make the most of such resources 
as he might possess. 

Owing to his birth and position, Dr. Warren was, of 
course, from the beginning of his career brought into 
relations more or less close with those who were most 
prominent in his own city, whether socially or otherwise. 
He fully appreciated his situation in this respect ; and his 
refined sympathies and self-regard naturally led him to 
commend himself to his own order, though he went de- 
cidedly farther than the mere assertion of his own claim 
to rank with the best society. Especially did he seek to 
promote whatever seemed most fitly to concern the vital 
interests of his native city. As in his youth he had not 
consorted with contemporary idlers, but with the highest 
and maturest natures that the free commonwealth of 
good society brought within his reach, so in his maturer 
years did he favor such intellectual development as might 
flow from literature, art, science, or other phase of ex- 
cellence. With the most prominent, the worthiest, and 
ablest men in every department he made it his aim to be 
familiar, and was prompt to pay cordial tribute to their 
talents, while they invariably derived a peculiar pleasure 
from the companionship of one who had so often been 
praised himself. He was ready to detect all that was 
really valuable, and by taking it within the compass of 
his own observation, to adapt it, so far as was possible, for 
his professional use. Thus at times the crude thoughts of 
others, exposed to the diligent action of his mind, found 



THUKSDAY EVENING CLUB. 299 

themselves expanded into fresh and wider forms of use- 
fulness, the poetry of one becoming in this way practical 
and useful in another, and quickened into unwonted 
strength and vigor. 

Of the Thursday Evening Club, which his father 
founded on the most broad and liberal principles, with 
the idea of periodically bringing together all those whose 
especial talents in any direction might add to the real 
progress of society, Dr. Warren was from the first a lead- 
ing member. He regarded it, to a certain extent, as a 
sort of family institution. He identified himself with its 
prosperity, and never failed to employ his best endeavor 
to keep it up to its original standard of efficient working. 
It still flourishes, and still bears the impress of that zeal 
with which he inspired it during his whole life. Regu- 
larly every winter he entertained its members at his own 
house with sumptuous hospitality, and always with the 
addition of really valuable contributions to its intellectual 
record. Not unfrequently he presented the results of his 
own discovery or observation, whenever he might have 
met with anything that he regarded of solid merit. 

The same feeling of liberal and sensible interest Dr. 
Warren manifested towards the Society of the Cincinnati. 
This feeling was partly patriotic, partly ancestral. His 
father was chosen an honorary member thereof in 1847, 
and a full member in 1854, in a manner most flattering to 
his self-esteem, while he himself was elected to represent 
the Warren family in 1863. 

It has often been noticed, in the history of families, that 
qualities and peculiarities apparent in one generation 
vanish almost wholly in the next, while in the third they 
reappear with not a little of their former strength. Of 
this Dr. Warren offered in many respects a remarkable 
illustration. Reference has heretofore been made to sev- 
eral of the more prominent attributes which he proba- 
bly inherited from his celebrated grandfather, Dr. John 



300 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

Warren ; and no one familiar with the lives of these men 
could fail to be impressed with the number and strength 
of the affinities they developed with increasing years. 
So close was this similarity, that the eulogy on the char- 
acter of Dr. John Warren which was pronounced shortly 
after his decease by Dr. James Jackson might serve to 
present again to the world, in many of its details, the 
attributes of his grandson. In " the quick and acute per- 
ception, the lively and strong imagination, the tenacious 
memory, the rapid judgment, the prompt and decided 
actions " specified by his eulogist as peculiar to the elder 
Warren, we recognize the coming merits of his successor, 
and quite as distinctly when he goes on to say : — 

" He was liable, sometimes from ill health, and always from 
the afflictions common to our race, to have his spirits greatly 
depressed. It was not gloom ; it was, especially when from 
moral causes, an affection which had more of passion and more 
of tenderness. But this affection was never of long contin- 
uance, though sometimes violent ; for there was a peculiar elas- 
ticity in both his moral and physical constitution, and he was 
quickly restored to that quickness and vivacity of temper which 
spread sunshine on all about him. 

" In his deportment there was nothing imposing, yet his man- 
ners were exceedingly graceful. He had the affability and dig- 
nity of true politeness. To the young and the humble he was 
always accessible and singularly agreeable. From this cause the 
junior members of our profession were extremely fond of con- 
sulting with him ; for while they were sure of benefit from his 
advice they had never to apprehend that they should be borne 
down by the display of his superiority." 

In the memoir of Dr. John Warren to be found in 
Thacher's "Medical Biography/' many other details are 
given which still further reveal these family similitudes. 
The writer speaks at length of — 

" his temperance, his love for the country, the deep inroads 
made by the severity of his labors on a constitution naturally 



FAMILY AFFINITIES. 301 

weak, the rapidity of his mental processes, the facility with 
which he arrived at his conclusions. He entered readily and 
warmly into the feelings of his patients. He affected no interest 
in their troubles that was not sincere. If they were in pain he 
knew what their sufferings were, and it would have been abhor- 
rent to his nature to have treated them with indifference. In all 
the anxieties of those who were connected to the sufferers by 
the relations of domestic life he warmly sympathized, for no one 
had felt them more deeply than he. 

" His eminence in society never elevated him in his own mind 
above the lowest about him ; for he considered all as members of 
one family, was at all times as ready to attend to the calls of 
the poor as of the rich, and his attentions to them were equally 
kind and soothing. To all his heart felt sympathy, and he ad- 
ministered those consolations that contribute almost as much to 
the ease of the patient as does the skill of the physician. His 
liberality was not confined to professional services ; he cheer- 
fully gave pecuniary aid to those whom he found in want, and 
all enterprises of a public or charitable nature found in him a 
ready contributor both of money and time. 

"His manner of operating was perfectly cool, composed, and 
decided. Though sympathizing in the sufferings he was called 
on to inflict, he did not allow that sympathy to influence him, 
to hurry one step of his operation, or to omit any detail which 
could contribute to its success." 

In illustration of these family affinities, these outcrop- 
pings of hereditary strata, many other examples might 
be cited with effect, were there space for the purpose ; 
but they have been well summed up in the felicitous and 
discriminating " Life of Dr. John Warren " from the pen 
of his grandson, Dr. Buckminster Brown. 1 

In closing this record of an honorable life but little re- 
mains to be said. The reader will already have formed his 
own judgment from the facts presented, and no comment 

1 This can be found in the " Lives of Eminent American Physicians and Sur- 
geons of the Nineteenth Century, edited by Samuel D. Gross, M.D." 

Dr. Buckminster Brown is the son of Dr. John B. Brown, who married one of 
the four daughters of Dr. John Warren ; and his personal resemblance in features 
and expression to his distinguished grandfather is very remarkable. 



302 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

that could now be added would materially change his 
views or do much towards enlarging or contracting his 
estimate. Long before death has overtaken him public 
opinion has passed upon every man a verdict according to 
his merits, and this is almost invariably correct. To Dr. 
Warren few will deny that the world in which his life was 
passed, or at least that portion thereof which knew him 
best, early proffered its full and ample approval, and that 
future years served but to strengthen this view and to 
justify it with ever growing conviction. Confiding in this 
approval, and anxious only to show how well it was de- 
served, the writer of this biography has striven but to 
portray fitly the symmetrical development of a career 
which in all its features was pure and noble, high in its 
mental and professional aims, and of consistent Christian 
merit. 

At the beginning of this attempt to perpetuate the 
name of one who ever sought to do his work diligently 
and well, a passage was cited setting forth the rightful 
claims of the healing art on those who would become her 
honorable votaries. As a fitting conclusion thereto the 
reader may not be unwilling to accept a few further words 
of wisdom, — words of fervent cheer and truth, the final 
legacy of one who also was an honor to his profession, 
and who, grandly striving to the end through a life of 
fierce though not ignoble warfare, died in the harness, a 
triumphant and laurelled athlete, on the arena he had 
made so glorious. 



VELPEAU. 303 



S'il est vrai, cependant, que l'homme actif use ainsi les deux 
tiers de sa vie a conquerir des objets ou des jouissances dont il 
ne peut plus jouir, ou qui lui e*chappent, une fois qu'elles lui 
sont decernees, il est vrai aussi que le travail, gouverne par une 
ambition legitime, est et sera toujours la principale, presque la 
seule source reelle du bonheur auquel il puisse pre*tendre sur 
terre ; la perspective eloignee, qu'on a sans cesse devant les 
yeux et dont on se delecte le long de la route, ne vaut-elle pas 
le bonheur lui-meme? — Velpeau. 



APPENDIX 



A. 

RULES FOR THE DAILY CONDUCT OF LIFE AND FOR PROFES- 
SIONAL PROGRESS, COMPOSED AND WRITTEN OUT BY DR. 
JOHN C. WARREN FOR THE BENEFIT OF HIS SON MASON, 
WHEN THE LATTER WAS ABOUT TO CONTINUE HIS STUDIES 
ABROAD. 

The following memoranda are of very different degrees of 
importance ; but I have taken pains to bring them together, and 
I hope you will find them all sufficiently important to be worth 
the remembrance. 

John C. Warren. 

Boston, 20 March, 1832. 

I. Let no day pass without an act of devotion to the Supreme 
Being, to thank him for his mercies, to beg his forgiveness, 
and to ask his aid in all you do. 

II. At evening think of what you have done and learnt in 
the day. Write every new fact down in a book. Make this an 
unfailing habit, and you will find great reason to be glad you 
have done it. 

III. Never omit to attend public worship, in whatever coun- 
try you may be, once at least on a Sunday, particularly in 
France. 

IV. The importance of a regular study of the Bible is too 
well known to you to need a memorandum. Never omit it on 
account of the presence of others. You will find a respect for 
it the best letter of recommendation in every Christian country. 

V. Give a part of every day to the retaining your knowledge 
of Latin, Greek, and natural philosophy. 

20 



306 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

VI. When you fall in company with persons better ac- 
quainted with any branch of science than yourself, encourage 
them by questions to communicate their knowledge. 

VII. Study the history and topography of places before you 
visit them. 

VIII. When abroad, be cautious of new acquaintances. Be 
familiar with no man not introduced to you by persons who 
know his history. 

IX. Search out the learned and wise. Get introduced to 
eminent men of science and religion. Pay them for their 
attention by information of the botany, natural history, customs, 
and modes of acquiring knowledge in your own country. 

X. Society requires effort. When you are in good company 
abroad, make a proper effort to cultivate acquaintances and to 
do your part in conversation. 

XI. In all your pursuits, when you have anything to be done, 
do it at the earliest possible time. 

XII. Do your work thoroughly. Superficial knowledge is 
of little use. Know one thing well rather than many im- 
perfectly. 

XIII. Be careful to arrange your course of studies well be- 
fore you begin. Attend to those branches most necessary. 

XIV. Your attention will be principally directed to the 
practice of surgery. 

1. Treatment of surgical diseases. 

2. Surgical operations. Perform these many times over in 
France with great attention under a proper director. 

3. Observe operations. Get as near as possible. Antici- 
pate the steps. 

4. Observe all surgical instruments and apparatus. 

XV. Pass some time in following attentively the practice of 
some English physician. Notice the mode of prescribing care- 
fully, and write down the prescriptions. 

XVI. Chemistry may be studied in France. 

XVII. Lectures on midwifery will not be necessary. 

XVIII. Comparative anatomy may be studied in the muse- 
ums of Paris with Cuvier in your hand. The noble collec- 
tions of natural history and mineralogy should be studied in 
the same manner. The collections of morbid anatomy in Lon- 
don and Paris should be carefully and frequently visited, and 



APPENDIX. 307 

notes of them taken. Anatomical dissection not to be pursued 
abroad. It can be done at home, and would occupy too much 
time. 

XIX. Lectures to improve and invigorate the intellectual 
powers should be attended if possible. The best of these are 
the lectures on the history of philosophy by M. Cousin, at Paris. 
I wish you to get an introduction to this gentleman, and inform 
him that his lectures have produced a great sensation here ; that 
they are translating them. I should be glad to open a cor- 
respondence with M. Cousin. I think General Lafayette may 
know him. 

XX. Frequent the societies, — the Royal Society, the French 
Institute ; also the medical debating societies. Take part in the 
debates. 

XXI. Write home an account of the societies, — of the men 
and of the lectures ; of the private societies. Write once a week, 
very carefully, as an exercise in composition, and so as to form 
a regular suite of events. Write in a very fair, large, and care- 
ful hand. Use ruled paper. Keep the best pens. Your letters 
will thus possess an intrinsic value. They will be useful to me 
and important to yourself as memoranda. Number your letters. 
Give me minute details of the following operations, as they are 
practised by those you see. In fact, I wish a minute descrip- 
tion of every operation you see, in order that I may know what 
improvements are making. This will be a substitute for my 
going there. 

1. Trepan. 

2. Fistula lacrymalis. 

3. Harelip. 

4. Cataract. 

5. Suture of palate. 

6. Removal of tonsils. 

7. Extraction of nasal polypi. 

8. Treatment of lateral curve of spine. 

9. Account of hospital erysipelas. 

10. Amputations of fingers. 

11. Other amputations. 

12. Excision of joints. See Mr. Liston and Mr. Syme of 
Edinburgh. 

13. Flap operation of thigh, how it succeeds. 



308 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

14. Fractures. Attend Mr. Amesbury ; also for amputation, 
M. Lisfranc. 

15. Lithotrity. M. Civiale. Observe his instruments. 

16. Dressing of fistula in ano. Whether it is long con- 
tinued after operations. 

17. Lithotomy in England and France. 

18. Treatment of hip diseases, and of white swelling in knee. 

19. Treatment of scrofula. 

20. Treatment of primary syphilis. 

Whenever you see any of these operations write me a minute 
account of it. 

XXII. Give me regular accounts of the cholera. Its treat- 
ment. Opinion as to contagion. Be particular on the different 
points. 

1. Places where it is. 

2. Number of cases. 

3. Number of deaths. 

4. How supposed to be introduced into each place. 

5. What precautions are taken against it. 

XXIII. In all your statements be methodical. Arrange in 
your own mind before you begin. 

XXIV. Inform me how the Temperance cause goes on in 
London. 

XXV. An account of the state of religious improvement in 
France. 

XXVI. Health. Remember that Providence has ordained 
to you a constitution that requires abstinence. In ordinary, 
help yourself at once to all you mean to eat. When you dine 
out recollect that one single excess will entail evils of months' 
duration. Be on your guard against wine. No champagne. 
Take claret. 

XXVII. Deposit your bills of credit or exchange with your 
banker, and draw out in sums no more than is required for 
present use. 

XXVIII. The term of your absence is to be two years. You 
will return seasonably before the autumnal gales. It is impor- 
tant you should not prolong the time, as in case of accident to 
me my business would fall into other hands. This will, of 
course, operate as a powerful reason for every exertion con- 
sistent with health. 



APPENDIX. 309 

XXIX. If I should be called to another world in your 
absence, it will be proper for you to continue abroad the time 
above mentioned ; for on your due qualifications will depend 
your ultimate success rather than on any aid I could afford you. 

XXX. The first part, and I may say the greatest part, of 
your practice will be in medicine rather than surgery. 

XXXI. In addition to the professional objects of your atten- 
tion while abroad, make notes of every improvement that can 
benefit your country. Recollect that you are sent into this 
world not to promote your own interest alone, but to perform 
a certain part for the good of mankind, and the honor and 
pleasure of God. Therefore you ought to study every object of 
public utility so far as j^ou can do it without interfering with 
your profession, to excel in which is your first object. 

XXXII. As far as you can, give me an account by letter of 
every such improvement or discovery. Send me without delay 
every new book containing anything very important, every new 
instrument, etc. ; particularly, useful surgical instruments, new 
books on surgery, new books on medicine, if important. A 
single book may be sent by a private hand when opportunity 
presents, This requires judgment, but you know my pursuits 
and my wants. 

XXXIII. Subscribe my name for the "Lancet" and the 
" Medical Gazette " from the beginning of the present year, 
and make arrangements for my getting them, as often as they 
come out, by the mail, if not very expensive. For this purpose 
confer with Mr. William C. Hale, whose address you will find 
at the end of this. 

XXXIV. Among other modes of improvement let me coun- 
sel you — 

1. To practise reading aloud, both in French and English, 
with a loud voice and a most distinct articulation. 

2. To practise thinking by arranging your thoughts under 
general heads and committing them to paper. 

3. To practise composition, which will be done by writing 
out your thoughts at length in manuscript books and in your 
correspondence. 

XXXV. Observe the manner and mode of different lecturers, 
whether they use notes or not, and every circumstance that can 
improve my lectures. For example, 



310 JONATHAN MASON WAEREN. 

Whether they have any person to aid them in doing opera- 
tions on the dead body before a class. 

How they manage dissecting-room demonstrations ; making 
preparations ; demonstrating different parts, as nerves and deep- 
seated viscera. 

These things will become very common to you ; but to me 
they will be very interesting, and you may safely write in the 
fullest manner. 

XXXVI. Dr. Mussey made a collection of morbid bones in 
Paris for about $100. Attend to this subject and to every val- 
uable acquisition in anatomy. You may purchase one first-rate 
male skeleton. Be very particular to look up a fine, whole, 
perfect, intellectual cranium with high forehead and other 
characters of the most perfect European or Caucasian organi- 
zation. Send this by first occasion. 

XXXVII. While abroad take every opportunity of establish- 
ing permanent correspondence with medical and scientific men. 
To increase useful acquaintances, join such societies as are open 
to you. 

XXXVIII. In France your first business is to acquire the lan- 
guage ; your next to guard against those impositions which are 
thought legitimate towards strangers. Never be angry when 
they try to impose upon you, but look out the more keenly. 

These thoughts I have set down as they occurred to me, with- 
out much method. I might have added many and perhaps 
more valuable hints than are here contained ; but if I had much 
increased the number, the burden of recollection would have 
been increased. If you observe what is written and keep it, 
you will, I trust and believe, by the aid of the Author of all 
good, lead a prosperous and happy life. 

Your affectionate father, 

John C. Waeeen. 

Makch 24, 1832. 

Deus, a quo sancta desideria, recta consilia et justa sunt 
opera, da servis illam quam mundus non potest, pacem ; ut et 
corda nostra mandatis tuis dedita, et hostium sublata formi- 
dine, tempora sint tua protectione tranquilla. Per Dominum 
nostrum Jesum Christum filium tuum, qui tecum vivit in secula 
seculorum. Amen. 



APPENDIX. 311 



B. 



Though the house No. 2 Park Street, formerly the home of 
Dr. John C. Warren and his descendants, has now disappeared 
from view, the interesting memories which it must long con- 
tinue to awaken in the minds of many will, it is hoped, be 
deemed a sufficient excuse for the minute description thereof 
here given. The mere name and position of its occupants 
during the seventy-two years of its existence gradually acquired 
for it a semi-historical distinction, while in the community at 
large it never ceased to enjoy a certain fame for the abundant 
and refined hospitality dispensed within its walls. To the 
members of the Warren family now living and their numerous 
connections it is, of course, still more closely endeared as the 
scene of so many events, either joyful or melancholy, which 
have served as epochs to mark their onward progress in life. 

This house — in which Dr. Jonathan Mason Warren was 
born and in which he died — was situated on land that in 
old times was a portion of the Common, which was originally 
bounded on the north and east by the present line of Beacon 
Street, and extended to the salt marshes at its foot. Though 
this avenue was continued from the head of the present Somer- 
set Street to the water in 1733, it could not have been well 
known or highly esteemed, since it is described simply as "the 
lane or street leading from School Street to the almshouse," 1 
in a deed dated April 11, 1750, by which, for the sum of £380, 
— John Sale, executor, conveyed to Samuel Sturgis the lot, 
"measuring 150 feet on said lane and 70 feet on Tremont Street," 
on which the Albion now stands. As far back as 1662 the 
town had decided to use for the site of an almshouse the lot at 
the corner of Beacon and Park Streets as at present defined, 
which is now occupied by the Ticknor Building and the edifice 
adjoining (lately converted into stores and offices), and from 
that time all the slope from thence to Tremont Street along the 
present line of Park Street was gradually appropriated to civic 

1 This description fails to confirm the statement in the Report of the Joint 
Standing Committee on Ordinances on the Nomenclature of Streets, dated Dec. 26, 
1879, that in 1708 the present Beacon Street bore the name of School Street " to 
the head of the present Somerset Street." 



312 JONATHAN MASON WAKREN. 

uses, until the last remaining space was devoted to a public 
granary, which was erected in 1737 where Park Street Church 
now stands. The territory between the two structures just 
mentioned was covered by a workhouse, a bridewell or house of 
correction, and a pound, the latter being nearest to the granary 
and located on the land on which the Quincy family lately 
resided. The Granary Burying-ground was in the rear of these 
buildings, which fronted on the Common and were barely sepa- 
rated therefrom by a narrow and ill-defined way, upon which in 
1781 had been conferred the name of Centiy Street, from the 
fact that it led up^to Centry Hill, as the top of Beacon Hill was 
then termed. 

On the 25th of May, 1795, the town passed a vote that the 
public land on Centry Street and the buildings upon it should 
be sold at public auction. To this they were moved by various 
considerations, not the least being the fact that the Common- 
wealth had decided to begin the erection of a new State House, 
worthy of its distinguished fame and dignity, near the head of 
that street ; and it was by no means becoming that the splendor 
of such an edifice should look down upon the collected sin, pov- 
erty, and misery of the town within a few feet of its entrance. 
At the same time it was decided to grade Centry Street and 
widen it by taking another portion of land from the Common, 
and thus transform it into a broad and handsome approach to 
the rising Capitol, and to the mansions of various wealthy citi- 
zens who lived in that vicinity. In the month of November 
of the year last named, the first sale was made under the au- 
thority of the above vote ; and the lot then covered by the gran- 
ary, bounding 118 feet on Centry Street, and thence running to 
the burying-ground, was conveyed to Henry Jackson by deed 
dated November 10, for the sum of $8,366, subject to the condi- 
tion " that all buildings to be erected on said premises shall 
be regular and uniform with the other buildings that may be 
erected on the other lots in the parcel of land of which the 
premises are a part, as aforesaid, and that they be of brick or 
stone, and covered with slate or tile, or some other materials 
that will resist fire." This proviso, of course, put it in the 
power of the first builder on any one of these lots, the deeds of 
which all contained the same clause, to dictate to all succeed- 
ing purchasers who built after him the type they were to 



APPENDIX. 313 

follow. It was the first attempt on the part of the town to 
secure uniformity of plan and material for its street architecture 
from any of its grantees. Oddly enough, as the Park Street 
Church was not begun till the year 1809, the society was 
obliged to adapt its style to that of the houses which had 
already been built on the adjoining lots. This was done so far 
as possible, though the edifice resembled these formerly more 
than it does now, as it was afterwards raised one story in order 
to provide a vestry and other necessary accommodations. 

The second sale of the Park Street land by the town was in 
1801, when, by deed dated March 24, the lot next to the granary, 
running seventy-eight feet on Centry Street, and bounded in the 
rear by the graveyard, was sold, subject to the above restrictions, 
for 16,100, to General Arnold Welles, who was, as has been al- 
ready stated, a near friend and connection of the Warren family, 
having married Elizabeth, the oldest daughter and third child of 
General Joseph Warren. On the southeasterly half of his pur- 
chase, General Welles soon reared a substantial dwelling, three 
stories high and thirty-nine feet wide, of very plain design both 
without and within, which now (A. D. 1886) remains pretty much 
as he built it. About the same time he contracted to sell the 
other half of his lot to Isaac P. Davis, who had made a fortune 
in the rope business, on condition that said Davis should pro- 
ceed forthwith to erect thereon a house of the same model as his 
own. This was done, and Mr. Davis became the owner of the 
land by deed dated Aug. 5, 1805, in consideration of the sum 
of $5,000. These two houses and three others adjoining formed 
the fifth block of continuous brick residences up to that date 
constructed in Boston, and they were all completed at nearly 
the same time. For that period they were really stately and 
admirable in their features and appointments, and from their 
impressive aspect well deserved to be styled mansions. 

The house built by Mr. Davis, however, remained but a very 
short time in his possession, as he was obliged to dispose of it in 
consequence of reverses in business. By a deed dated Sept. 
27, 1805, he conveyed the premises " situated in Park Place, 
so called," — though in the same document it is described as 
bounding "thirty-nine feet on Centry Street " — to Jonathan 
Mason, whose daughter Dr. John C. Warren had married Nov. 
17, 1803. The new owner at once allowed the young couple to 



314 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

occupy it, and thither they removed in the month of October, 
1805. There they continued to dwell till Mr. Mason's death, 
when it was found that he had left it to his daughter Mrs. 
Warren. After the decease of the latter it came to her children 
by descent, as she left no will ; and Dr. Warren, their father, 
bought their respective interests therein, thus becoming the 
owner thereof absolutely. At his death he bequeathed this 
"mansion house in Park Street, valued at $40,000,'' to his son 
Mason in fee simple, from whom it ultimately passed by his will 
to Mrs. Warren for life, with remainder to his children. 

The Warren mansion from the first took high rank among 
the Boston residences, and there were few that surpassed or 
even equalled it in size and pretensions. The front, though 
plain and void of the least ornament, was broad and ample in 
outline, with large windows. The interior was spacious, but 
afforded from every point of view the strongest possible con- 
trast to the elaborate elegance and luxury of the present day, 
and to that form of dwelling now in vogue, which not only 
exhausts all the resources of art and taste, but economizes every 
inch of available room in the attempt to increase the general 
effect. A modern architect would have been in despair at the 
arrangement of the interior of the Warren house, so plentiful was 
the room and so little account was made thereof, so abundant 
were the opportunities presented and so coolly were they ignored. 
The plan, if so it could justly be termed, was rambling and in- 
congruous, and there were few pretences to architectural char- 
acter or harmony of detail. Both style and convenience were 
conspicuous for their absence. Clumsy and useless nooks, 
lumbering projections and incongruities, heavy mouldings, 
awkward turnings, and " passages that led to nothing," were 
its prominent features. The partition walls were absurdly 
thick, the ceilings low, and all the apartments dark, except 
those in front. The quantity and solidity of the material 
employed in the structure might well lead one to believe that 
the designer had planned quite as much for posterity as for his 
more immediate patrons, or perhaps had in mind one of those 
" eternal abodes " which the ancient Egyptians were wont to 
prepare for their dead. On the left of the main entrance was 
a room of goodly size with an air of ancient and prosperous 
dignity which Dr. Warren used as a study, while on the 



APPENDIX. 315 

opposite side his waiting patients were impounded in a long and 
narrow alcove, where they awaited their doom, — a sort of 
" cave of Adullam." Under the study was formerly a retreat for 
the use of the students, where prescriptions were prepared and 
various medical and surgical work was done. Behind the study 
extended the kitchen and other domestic appurtenances. From 
the back windows of the house one overlooked the Granary 
Burying-ground, and the rears of all the other dwellings around 
it, which gave the impression that they had turned their backs 
upon the cemetery, and were doing their best to flee from 
it as fast as possible. The prospect was but dismal under any 
aspect, and was hardly enlivened by the granite shaft in the 
centre, though it bore the name of Boston's advanced liberal 
and patriotic pioneer, Franklin. From the dining-room of Dr. 
John C. Warren, which at a later date was used also as a library, 
could likewise be seen the tombs of Governor Hancock and 
Governor Bellingham, of Judge Sewall and Jeremy Belknap, 
of Phillipses and Quincys, of Cabots and Amorys, and the last 
earthly resting-places, of hundreds of other worthies, clerical or 
medical, political or social, who had here returned to the bosom 
of that mother from which they came. Last, but not least 
among them, ranked that final home of the Minots, almost 
touching the wall of Dr. Warren's house, in which were placed 
the remains of General Joseph Warren immediately after their 
removal from Bunker Hill in the spring of 1776, and in which 
they rested till 1824. Thus the Doctor's guests did not meet at 
his table without the presence of a perpetual memento mori 
which, like the coffin placed by Nelson at the head of his 
cabin, kept their common mortality forever in mind, and, if it 
failed to serve any other purpose, might at least recall the pos- 
sible consequences of an over-indulgence. 

Passing to the front of the edifice, one was impressed with a 
prompt and striking contrast. The parlors at the head of one 
flight of stairs and the two chambers above them overlooked the 
Common, sloping in a gentle and verdurous expanse to the water 
that then lapped its lower boundary. For a long time after Dr. 
John C. Warren began to occupy the site there were but three 
trees on Park Street, the present mall having been first planted 
in 1826 by Mayor Quincy ; nor do the elms he then set out hold 
by any means the lowest place among the numerous benefactions 



316 JONATHAN MASON WARREN. 

with which his far-sighted public spirit enriched his native town. 
Thus the view from Dr. Warren's windows towards the west 
was impeded by nothing but the Great Elm, the flagstaff-hill, 
and the monotonous continuity of the half-dozen rope- walks on 
piles in the marshes, till it crossed the glittering water and 
reached the Blue Hills of Milton. On the afternoons of winter 
and the early spring, the setting sun presented to the spectator 
a prospect seldom equalled, as its changing splendors liveried the 
whole west, and added new and untold beauties to the features 
of a landscape so enchanting. 

In addition to these advantages it should be stated that the 
situation of the structure was excellent from every sanitary as- 
pect, and peculiarly good, professionally speaking, as it was 
both central and accessible, and during the life of Dr. John 
Warren, who lived on School Street, had the further benefit of 
his vicinity. 

The house retained all its original features unaltered until the 
spring of 1877, when it was demolished to make room for the 
present " Warren Building." It came into the hands of Dr. 
Mason Warren after his father's death in 1856, when he removed 
to it from the dwelling he was then occupj-ing at No. 6 on the 
same street. It is almost superfluous to say how much he liked 
it ; how deeply he felt the pride of its possession, and how strong 
was his attachment to the very bricks of which it was built. 
While he owned it he desired that everything should remain as 
his father left it, and nothing disturbed from its original plan 
and condition. The busts and pictures even were not to be 
moved from the places they were wont to hold, and which habit 
had so much endeared to his eyes. As it had been to his father, 
so it should be to him ; and in his will he requested that all 
things should continue as they were, so long as the house was 
tenanted by the family. Even when death had given him his 
final summons he rallied sufficiently to walk with some help to 
the window and gaze, as his father had done before him, with 
unutterable and regretful longing on the prospect which he was 
never to see again, and which he felt the keenest distress to 
leave, even though the departing sun seemed already to be mar- 
shalling his way to the bright glories and celestial happiness 
of another world. 



INDEX 



INDEX. 



Some pains has been taken to make the following list accurate and complete. Owing to 
the social and professional position of Dr. Warren, he was brought into relations more or less 
intimate with many persons well known to fame in various ways, both at home and abroad, 
whose names have been mentioned, though often but cursorily, in the foregoing memoir. Of 
these some have been partly, others almost wholly forgotten, while the remembrance of all 
has been somewhat dimmed by the mists of time. In thus seeking to identify them and 
summon them back to the present, it has been thought that at least a momentary and con- 
tingent interest may be excited in the minds of those who like to repeople their memories 
with the shadows of the past. 



A BBOTSFORD, 61. 
-^*- Abercrombie, John, M.D. 



199. 



Abernethy, John, Mr., 187 

Academy of Medicine, 99. 

Adams, Hon. Charles Francis, 19 note. 

Address before the Massachusetts Medical 

Society in 1864, 254, 255 and note. 
Adelaide, Princesse d'Orleans, 155. 
Agassiz, J. L. Rudolphe, 199 note. 
Agricola, 59. 

Albinus, Bernard Siegfried, M.D., 176. 
Allibone's Dictionary of English Litera- 
ture, 254 note. 
America, alleged manners and customs in 

1832, 113-116 ; reputation of, in Europe 

in 1832, 115, 116. 
American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 

265. 
American claims against France, 204, 205, 

207. 
American Journal of Medical Science, 

256 note. 
American Medical Association, 264. 
American Medical Convention, 233. 
American students in Paris, 111, 112, 113, 

270. 
Amesbury, Joseph, Mr., 308. 
Amsterdam, 176. 

Amussat, Jean-Zulc'ma, 99, 105, 138, 161. 
Ancestors of Dr. Warren, 44. 
Andral, Gabriel, M.D., 79, 105, 138 and 

note, 167, 269. 
Andreini, Vincenzo, M.D., 164. 
Andrew, Gov. John A., 255 note. 
Appleton, Thomas G., 145 note. 
Appleton, William, 51 note, 245 note. 
Apthorp, Col. John T., 7 note. 
Arago, 199. 

Arctic, survivors of the, 244, 285. 
Arnott, Neil, M.D., 200. 



Arnould-Plessy, Mme., 135. 
Asylum for the Blind, 71. 
Auber, 132. 
Audouin, Jean- Victor, 138. 



BABBAGE, Charles, 199. 
Babington, George G., Mr.. 62, 71. 
183. 

Baffos, Remi-Louis, M.D., 207. 

Baillot, 151. 

Baird, Rev. Robert, D.D., 127 note. 

Ballingall, Sir George, 197. 

Balzac, 110. 

Bancroft, George, 13. 

Bandaging, 205, 206. 

Barbedienne, 283. 

Barnard, George M., 145 note. 

Barre', Mme. De'bris de, 194. 

Bartlett, Josiah, M.D., 234. 

Basle, 243. 

Bates, Joshua, 200 and note. 

Bates, Joshua, Mr. and Mrs., 178. 

Bath, 188. 

Beacon Street, 311 and note. 

Beaumont, William, M.D., 202. 

Beck, Prof. Charles, 13. 

Belgium, 176. 

Belknap, Jeremy, D.D., 315. 

Bell, Sir Charles, M.D., 57, 65, 180, 188, 
199. 

Bellingham, Gov. Richard, 315. 

Bellini, 132. 

Bemis, J. W., M.D., 234. 

Bennati, Francesco, M.D., 188. 

B< ranger, 80. 

Berne, 162, 243. 

Bernhard, Duke Charles, of Saxe- Weimar- 
Eisenach, 116 nott . 

Bethlehem Hospital, 71. 



320 



INDEX. 



Betlmne, George A., M.D., 128. 

Bickersteth, Robert, Mr., 55. 

Bigelow, Henry J., M.D., 223, 257, 265. 

Bigelow, Jacob, M.D., 143, 145 and note, 
229 note, 232 note, 243 note, 256. 

Birmingham, 55, 56, 62. 

Bitton, 62. 

Black Draught, 34. 

Blainville, Henri-Marie Ducrotay de, 106, 
138. 

Blancbard, Edward, 145 note. 

Blumenbach, Johann Friedrich, M.D., 70, 
146, 176. 

Board of Medical Examiners, 264. 

Boeuf Gras, 153. 

Boivin, Mme. Marie A. V. G., 140. 

Bologna, 163. 

Bonaparte, 152. 

Bonaparte, Mme. Patterson, 147. 

Boott, Erancis, M.D., 64 and note, 178, 
179. 

Boott, Mrs. Kirk, 145 note. 

Boott, Miss Sarah, 145 note. 

Boston, Sunday in, 51 ; in London, 58 ; 
cholera in, 61 ; contrast with Paris, 
74 ; in 1825, 116 note ; Frenchman's oc- 
cupation in, on Sunday, 127 note ; in 
1835, 214-216 and note ; its need of 
a surgeon, 221 ; its fashionable cir- 
cles, 233; Sir James Y. Simpson, 243 
note. 

Boston Medical Association, 258. 

Boston Society of Medical Improvement, 
265. 

Boston Society of Natural History, 265. 

Bouillaud, Jean-Baptiste, M.D., 107. 

Bowditch, Henry L, M.D., graduates at 
the Medical School with Dr. Warren, 
47 ; attends lectures with Dr. Warren, 
78 ; a student in Paris, 112 ; impressions 
of Dr. Warren in Paris, 120 ; at the 
Trois Freres, 128 ; reference to, 160 ; 
remembrance of Mme. Lachapelle, 205 
note ; explanation of Dr. Warren's ill- 
ness, 254 ; tribute to Dr. Warren, 268- 
271 ; opinions of Dr. Warren, 273, 
277. 

Bowditch, N. I., 160, 232 note. 

Bowring, Sir John, 150. 

Boyer, Alexis, 78, 85, 87 note. 

Boylston Medical Society, 264. 

Boylston Prize Committee, 264. 

Bradbury, Charles, 6 note. 

Bradlee, Josiah, 296. 

Bradlee, Mrs. Josiah, 250 note. 

Braes of Balquhidder, 60. 

Braithwaite, Miss Anna, 179 

Brand, the staghound, 61. 

Breen, John, M.D., 191, 192, 193, 196. 

Breschet, Gilbert, M.D., 146 note, 147. 

Brewer, Gardner, 57, 257. 

Brigham, Benjamin, 8. 

Bright, Richard, M.D., 65, 186. 

Brighton, England, 63, 72, 77. 

Brillat-Savarin, 131. 

Bristol, 188. 



British Association at Edinburgh, 1834, 
188, 198, 199 and note ; at Liverpool in 
1854, 243. 

Brocard, Mile., 135. 

Brodie, Sir Benjamin C, 180, 183, 185, 
186. 

Brookline, 247. 

Brougham, 58. 

Brown, Buckminster, M.D., 301 note. 

Brown, John B., M.D., 139, 301 note. 

Bunker Hill, battle of, 185. 

Bunker Hill Monument, 149. 

Bunker Hill Monument Association, 265. 

Burke, 242. 

Buxton, 61. 



CAB for Dr. John C. Warren, 140, 143, 
165, 201, 203. 

Cabot, Mr. and Mrs. Samuel, 145. 

Cabot, Samuel, M.D., 258. 

Cadet Regiment, 251. 

Cairnes, Mr. and Mrs., 144. 

Callaway, Thomas, Mr., 182. 

Cambridge, 58. 

Capping verses, 9. 

Carlisle, cholera at, 60 note. 

Carlyle, 56 note, 60 note. 

Carnival in Paris, 1833, 152-154. 

Carter, Master James, 31 note. 

Castle Hill, 39. 

Castlereagh, 61. 

Cataract, Roux's method, 95 ; Liston's, 
197 ; at the Ophthalmic Hospital, 
184. 

Centry Hill, 312. 

Centry Street, 312, 313. 

Chamonix, 162, 243. 

Charles X., 79. 

Charleston, 52. 

Chatham, 261. 

Chatsworth, 61. 

Chervin, Nicolas, M.D., 98 note. 

Chester, 55. 

Chesterfield, 261. 

Chinese heads, 203. 

Chirac, Pierre, M.D., 84 note. 

Chloric ether, 231. 

Cholera in 1832, 53 ; in Paris, 54, 68 ; in 
England, 56 ; at Glasgow, 60 ; at New 
York, Philadelphia, and Boston, 60 and 
note ; at Manchester, etc., 62 ; London, 
65, 66, 67 ; treatment of, in England, 
65 ; saline treatment, 65, 66, 68 ; in 
Liverpool, 67 ; at the State's prison, 
69, 71; Dr. Stevens's method, 65; 
in Dublin, 196-198; in Great Britain, 
201. 

Chomel, Auguste-Francois, M.D., 79, 107, 
138, 160, 269. 

Christmas in 1832, 151. 

Civiale, Jean, 62, 78, 97, 98, 99 and note, 
146 note, 243, 268 note, 308. 

Civita Vecchia, 247. 

Clark, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin C, 148. 

Clarke, Sir James, M.D., 58, 67. 



INDEX. 



321 



Class of 1830, 29 note. 

Classical Journal, 8. 

Cleveland, Henry R,, 144. 

Clift, William, M.D., 179, 180, 181. 

Cloquet, Ernest, M.D., 105, 143. 

Clothilde, 135. 

Clyde, Falls of the, 60. 

Cobbett, William, 180. 

Cobden, Richard, 210 note. 

Coffin, Admiral Sir Isaac, Bart., 9, 17 note. 

Cogswell, Joseph Green, LL.D., 13, 215 
note. 

College of France, 79. 

College of Physicians and Surgeons of 
the State of New York, 265. 

Colles, Abraham, M.D., 195. 

Collins, Gov. John, 39. 

Collins, John C, M.D., 192. 

Collis, Maurice, Mr., 223 note, 256 note. 

Columbian Centinel, 17. 

Common, Eoston, 315. 

Como, 162. 

Confessions of Saint Augustine, 142. 

Conservatoire de Musique, 151, 153. 

Cooper, Sir Astley Paston, Bart., anecdote 
of, 25 note ; friendship for the Warrens, 
25 note ; visited by Dr. Warren in Lon- 
don, 56 ; breakfast with, 57 ; resem- 
blance to Mr. George Peabody, 57 note ; 
description of, 57 ; interviews of, with 
Dr. Warren, 62, 63, 64, QQ, 69 ; anecdote 
of Larrey, 86 note ; character of, 101 ; 
commendation of Dr. Warren, 119 ; 
praise of Dr. Mott, 159 note ; further 
description, 179; message to Dr. John 
C. Warren, 180 ; the aorta tied by him, 
181 ; surgical ideas, 182 ; card to Mr. 
Guthrie, 184; Dr. Warren dines with 
him, 185 ; portrait by Sir Thomas Law- 
rence, 186; Dr. John C. Warren's early 
opinion of, 192 ; at the meeting of the 
British Association in Edinburgh, 197 ; 
visit to Paris in 1834, 202 and note ; trait 
of, 295 ; account by Dr. John C. War- 
ren, 296 note. 

Cooper, Bransby Blake, Mr., 183. 

Cooper, Colonel, 185. 

Cooper, James Fenimore, 148 note. 

Cooper, Robert Bransby, M.P., 185. 

Cooper, William, Mr., 25 note. 

Cork Street Fever Hospital, 192, 196. 

Correspondence of Dr. Warren, 155. 

Cossacks, 152. 

Cousin, 79, 143, 175, 307. 

Covent Garden Theatre, 58. 

Cromwell, 259. 

Crowninshield, Miss Anna Caspar, 225. 

Crowninshield, Hon. Benjamin W., 225. 

Cruveilhier, Jean, M.D., 198. 

Cuba, 36, 37. 

Curtis, George T., 238. 

Curtis, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas B., 145 note. 

Cusack, James W., Mr., 195. 

Cussy, Marquis de, 131. 

Cuvier, Frederic, M.D., 140. 

Cuvier, Georges, Baron, 53, 240, 306. 



DAGNAN, 146. 
Daguerre, 170, 228. 

Daily Advertiser, 17. 

Dalton, John, 199. 

Dandie Dinmont, 61. 

Dautel, Mile. Henriette-Virginie, 169 note. 

Daremberg, Charles- Victor, M.D., 1. 

Darlington, 58. 

Daubigny, Charles Francois, 169 note. 

Daubigny, Edme Francois, 169 note. 

D'aubigny, Pierre, 169, 170. 

D'aubigny, Mme., nee Amelie Dautel, 
169. 

Davis, Edward G., M.D., 203. 

Davis, Mr. Isaac P., 313. 

Davis, Mrs. Isaac P., 283. 

Deaf and Dumb Asylum, 71. 

Delavalette, Jean-Louis-Achille, of Senlis, 
148 note. 

Delavigne, Casimir, 135. 

Denonvilliers, Charles-Pierre, 207. 

Deville, James, 70, 71, 207. 

Dieffenbach, Jean Frederic, M.D., 106 
note, 201, 202 note. 

Dieppe, 63, 72, 73, 243. 

Dixwell, Epes Sargent, 7. 

Doggett, Mrs. Elizabeth, widow of Noah, 
283 note. 

Dominie Sampson, 61. 

Donizetti, 132. 

Downes, , M.D., 113. 

Dress of Dr. Warren, 171, 172. 

Dublin, 67, 158, 168, 191, 196-198. 

Dublin Quarterly Journal of Medical 
Science, 195 note, 222 note, 268. 

Dubois, Antoine, Baron, 100-102, 147, 151. 

Dumas, 135. 

Dumeril, Andre-Marie-Constant, M.D., 78, 
106. 

Dumfries, 60 note. 

Dun, Sir Patrick's Hospital, 193. 

Du Pui, M. S., M.D., 176, 177. 

Dupuytren, Guillaume, Baron, anecdotes 
of, by Sir Astley Cooper, 58 ; letter to, 
from Sir Astley Cooper, 62; Dr. War- 
ren's first sight of, 78 ; at Hotel Dieu, 
79 ; abuse of Lisfranc, 83 ; operations 
and style, 84-86 ; peculiarities, 87 ; rem- 
iniscences of, from Dr. John C. Warren, 
SI note; Dr. Warren calls on him, 89; 
death, 90; funeral, 91; his rival, Lis- 
franc, 92 ; abilities, 95, 101, 104; autopsy 
by Dupuytren, 107 ; greatness, 131, 138 ; 
his "Clinique," 139; his "Urethro- 
tome," 143; brilliancy, 158 and note; 
discourtesy, 159 ; lectures, 160 ; refuted 
by Sir Astley Cooper, 179 ; opinion of 
Mr. Key, 188 ; illness, 201 ; replaced by 
Velpeau, 208 ; results of his teachings, 
222 ; characteristic remark of, 259, 
269. 

Duvernay, Mile., 153. 

Dwightj Edmund, 7 note. 

Dwight,' Mrs. Thomas, 23, 257. 

Dwight, Miss Veronica, 21. 

Dyer, J. Franklin, M.D., 251. 



21 



322 



INDEX. 



EARLE, Henry, Mr., 182. 
Ecole de Medecine, 81 note. 

Ecole Pratique d'Anatomie, 167. 

Edinburgh, 23, 58-61, 67, 68, 191, 195, 196, 
198, 243. 

Edwards, Rev. Justin, D.D., 125 note. 

Egypt, 102, 103. 

Egyptian Physician, saying of, 282. 

Eliot, Ephraim, A.M., 42 note. 

Ellen's Tree, 60. 

Elliotson, John, M.D., 181, 278 note. 

Ellis, Rev. George E., D.D., 145 note. 

Ellsler, 133. 

Embargo, prospective, 204. 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 7. 

English travellers in the United States, 
114. 

Ether, first operation under the influence 
of, 229 ; first private operation, 231 ; 
Dr. Morton the discoverer, 231 note. 

Everett, Edward, 6, 104 note, 175. 

Exchange Coffee House, 30 note. 

Extemporaneous speaking, 200. 

Eye, diseases of, at the Ophthalmic Hos- 
pital, 180, 183. 



FANEUIL HALL, 17. 
Farre, John Richard, M.D., 188. 
Eellowes, Nathaniel, 38. 
Felton, Cornelius C, tutor, 12. 
Eields, James T., 256 note. 
Eisher, John Carlton, LL.D., arrival in 

Boston, 5 ; challenges the local scholars, 

6 and note; reminiscences of, 6 note ; 

mythical status, 7 note ; removes to New 

York, 13. 
Fissure of hard and soft palate, 195 note. 

See Staphyloraphy. 
Elagg, Josiah F., M.D., 140, 188. 
Flahault de la Billarderie, Comte de, 148 

note. 
Flahault, Mile. Georgina Gabrielle de, 148 

note. 
Flicoteau, Restaurant de, 127, 128. 
Florence, 163, 164, 246. 
Follen, Prof. Charles, 13. 
Forest Hills Cemetery, 245 and note, 262, 

290. 
Forty-fifth Regiment, 251. 
Fouquier, Pierre-Eloi, M.D., 107. 
Fourth of July, 1832, 58. 
Foville, A., M.D., 72. 
Fowle, Miss Adeline, 63 note, 147 note. 
Fowle, Miss Charlotte, 63 note. 
Fowle, John, 63 note. 
Franklin, 315. 
French language, 190. 
French Revolution, 104. 
French surgery and the great mortality 

therefrom, 83, 84. 
Friends and associates of Dr. Warren in 

Paris, 210. 
Fritz, Monsieur, 74. 
Frog Pond, 23. 
Frogs, 151. 



Frothingham, Rev. Nathaniel L., D.D., 7 

note. 
Fry, Mrs. Elizabeth, 179. 



GAINSBOROUGH, 242 note. 
Garden of Plants, 78. 

Gardiner, Samuel P., 6 note. 

Gardner, Joseph, M.D., 42 note. 

Gendrin, Auguste-Nicolas, M.D., 107. 

Geneva, 162, 176, 243, 246. 

Genoa, 246. 

George III., 242 note. 

George IV., 185. 

Georges, Mile., 135. 

German language, 190. 

Germany, 68. 

Giant's Causeway, 195. 

Gibson, William, M.D., 76. 

Gig for Dr. John C. Warren, 201. 

Giuletta e Romeo, 152. 

Glasgow, 60 and note, 67, 198. 

Goethe, 53. 

Goodwin, William, Mr., 182. 

Gottingen, 13, 176. 

Gould, Benjamin Apthorp, graduates at 
Harvard College and takes charge of 
the Latin Grammar School, 3 ; his pe- 
culiar talents and rare fitness for the 
office, 4 ; his relations with Mr. Manners 
and Dr. Fisher, 5 ; Dr. Fisher's chal- 
lenge, 6 ; excites a remarkable love for 
classical learning, 7 ; edits the " Prize 
Book," 8 ; tribute from Mr. Hillard, 9 
note ; annual triumph at the " visita- 
tions," 10 ; devotion to Latin versifica- 
tion, 11 ; acquirements of his pupils in 
this respect, 12; gradual falling away 
of his system, 13; Dr. Fisher retires 
from the field, 13 ; resigns his position, 
13; appeal to Mason, 15; his popularity, 
tribute from his former pupils, 19 note ; 
relentless drill in Latin and Greek, 30 ; 
disdain for the vernacular, 31. 

Gould, Benjamin Apthorp, Ph.D., 19 note. 

Gove, M. J., 144, 151. 

Graham, Prof. Robert, M.D., 67. 

Grampian Hills, 59. 

Granary Burying Ground, 312, 315. 

Grant, Isaac, 164, 181. 

Gray & Bowen, 68. 

Gray, Horace, 40, 144. 

Gray's Elegy, 6, 239. 

Great Rebellion, 251. 

CtT*PPk" slciil]^ / 1 

Green, Joseph Henry, Mr., 181, 182, 183. 

Green, Samuel A., M.D., 251. 

Greene, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin D., 51 
note. 

Greene, Rev. John S. C, M.D., 51 note ; 
sails with Dr. Warren for Charleston, 
52; and to Liverpool, 52; journey into 
the Highlands, 59 ; leaves for London, 
61 ; botanical excursion with Professor 
Graham, 67 ; arrival in Paris with Dr. 
Warren, 73 ; in the same pension with 



INDEX. 



323 



Dr. Warren, 79, 112; at the Trois 
Freres, 128 ; Christmas dinner, 1832, 
151 ; o3iciates at Dr. Warren's funeral, 
262. 

Greene, Miss Sarah, 51 note. 

Grey, Lord, 198, 200. 

Grisi, Giulia, 133, 152. 

Griswold, Miss, 234, 235. 

Griswold, Rev. Ruf us W., 234. 

Gross, Samuel D., M.D., 301. 

Guerin, Jules, M.D., 87 note. 

Guthrie, George James, Mr., 159 note, 180, 
184, 185. 

Guv Mannering, 61. 

Guy's Hospital, 58, 66, 69, 187. 

Guy's Museum, 71, 182. 



HACHE, Bernard, M.D., 202. 
Haddon Hall, 61. 

Hale, Enoch, M.D., 143. 

Hale, William C, 65, 309. 

Halevy, 132, 153. 

Halford, Sir Henry, M.D., 242 note. 

Hamilton, James, M.D., 204. 

Hammond, Charles, 144. 

Hammond, Samuel, 249. 

Hammond, Mrs. Samuel, 289, 290. 

Hammond, Samuel, Jr., 289. 

Hancock, Gov. John, 315. 

Handwriting of Dr. Warren, 157. 

Harcourt, Lady (see Vernon- Harcourt). 

Harcourt, Sir William (see Vernon-Har- 
court). 

Harris, Mr., 74. 

Harvard College, 11, 19, 29, 30 note, 147 
note, 226. 

Haussmann, Baron, 74. 

Havana, 37, 39. 

Hawkins, Caesar Henry, Mr., 183. 

Hay ward, George, M.D., 243 note. 

Heidelberg, 13, 176. 

He'reau, Edme-Joachim, M.D., 207. 

Heurteloup, Charles L. S., Baron, 69, 70. 

Highlands, Scottish, 59, 67, 198. 

Hillard, George S., 7, 8 note, 9 note, 237 
note. 

Historic Genealogical Society, 256 note. 

Hodgkin, Thomas, M.D., 72, 182, 187, 
188, 199, 212. 

Holland, 170. 

Holme, Miss Catherine, 63 note. 

Holmes, Oliver Wendell, M.D., note on 
Lisfranc, 92 ; in Paris with Dr. Warren, 
112; "La Grisette," 112 note ; opinion 
of Dr. Warren, 119 ; at the Trois Freres, 
128, 130; voyage to Europe in the 
"Philadelphia," 145 note ; tribute to Dr. 
Jackson, 178; note to Dr. Warren, 254; 
tribute to Dr. Warren, 256. 

Holyhead, 188. 

Holyoke, Edward A., M.D., 49 note. 

Hooper, Robert W., M.D., 128, 145 note, 
162. 

Hopital Beaujon, 105. 

HOpital de la Charite, 78, 159, 208. 



Hopital de la Pitie, 78, 92, 104, 166, 202, 203. 

Hopital des Enfans Malades, 207. 

Hopital Necker, 78, 99 note. 

Hopital Saint-Louis, 79, 167. 

Hopital des Venenens, 106, 201, 202. 

Hospice de l'Ecole de Medecine, 100. 

Hotel de Hollande, 73. 

Hotel des Invalides, 85 note, 102, 103. 

Hotel de l'Odeon, 73, 78, 269. 

Hotel Dieu, 78, 79, 81 note, 85, 86, 89, 95, 

107, 146 note, 158, 202, 206, 208. 
House of Commons, 181. 
Hubbard, Samuel, 140. 
Hugo, Victor-Marie, 135. 
Humane Society, 264. 
" Hunchback, The," 58. 
Hunt, Ebenezer, M.D., 224 note. 
Hunter, John, M.D., 180, 181. 
Hunterian Museum, 64, 179, 180. 
Hydrocele, 84 note, 182. 



TDILIA, 154. 

A Inches, Herman B., M.D., 128. 

Interlaken, 162, 243. 

I Puritani, 132. 

Irish boy, anecdote of, 286. 

Irish surgery, 195 note. 

Italian language, 190. 

Italy, 161, 165, 246. 

Ivanhoff, 133. 

Ives, Levi, M.D., 234. 

Ives, Moses P., 231 note. 



JACKSON, Andrew, 123 note, 156, 204- 
207. 

Jackson, Charles T., M.D., 141, 243 note. 

Jackson, Henry, 312. 

Jackson, James, M.D., letter to his son, 
49 note ; views regarding Dr. Warren's 
health, 245; kindness to Dr. Warren, 
249 note ; esteem for each other, 254, 
255 and note ; death of, 268 note ; eulogy 
of Dr. John Warren, 291 note, 300. 

Jackson, James, Jr., M.D., devotion to 
his father, 49 note ; letter concerning the 
cholera in Paris, 54 ; in London, 56 ; 
travels with Dr. Warren in Scotland, 
59 ; call on Sir Astley Cooper, 63, 69 ; 
the thymus gland, 64 ; tour in the High- 
lands, 67 ; head examined by Deville, 
70; attachment of Louis for him, 108 
and note ; with Dr. Warren in Paris, 
112 ; leaves Paris for home, 113 ; at the 
Trois Freres, 128; admiration for An- 
dral, 138 note ; death, 177 ; tribute from 
Dr. Holmes, 178; call on Sir George 
Ballingall, 197 ; Louis dedicates one of 
his works to him, 201. 

Jackson, John B. S., M.D., 240. 

Jiiger, Michael, 185. 

January 1, 1833, 151. 

Jeffries, John, M.D., 237 nott . 

Jouffroy, Theodore-Simon, Professor, 79, 
114-117. 



324 



INDEX. 



KEITH and Nairne, Margaret, Baroness 
of, 148 note. 
Kemble, Mrs. Frances Anne, 133. 
Kennedy, Evory, M.D., 192, 193. 
Key, Charles Aston, Mr., 58, 62, 66, 70, 

187, 188. 
King's Theatre, 57. 
Kingston, 181, 238, 240. 
Kirk, Rev. Edward N., D.D., 127 note. 
Kirkland, Rev. John Thornton, President 

of Harvard College, 12, 16, 17 note. 
Knapsacks, 251. 
Kremlin, 152. 



LABLACHE, 133. 
La Cachuca, 133. 

Lachapelle, Jeanne-Louise, 205 and note. 

Lafayette, 148, 149, 157, 307. 

Lagrange, 149. 

La grippe, 155. 

"La Grisette," 112. 

La Juive, 132. 

Lake District, 61, 71. 

Lalanne, Mile., 22. 

Lamarque, Gen. Maximilien, 55 note. 

Lamb, William, M.D., 234. 

Lanark, 60. 

Langenbeck, Bernhard, M.D., 256 note. 

Langstaff, George, Mr., 187. 

Lardner, Dionysius, M.D., 199. 

Larrey, Dominique-Jean, Baron, 86 note, 
102 note, 103. 

La Sylphide, 134 and note. 

La Tarantule, 134. 

" La Tempete," 134. 

" La Tentation," 153. 

Latin Grammar School, at the time of 
Mason Warren's entrance in 1820, 3; 
social position of its pupils, 4 ; progress 
under Master Gould's administration, 
4 ; scholastic glory of its pupils, 7 ; the 
"Prize Book," 8; prominence of the 
memory in its system, 9 ; Admiral Sir 
Isaac Coffin an old pupil, 9 ; semi-annual 
visitations, 10 ; its Latin verses, 11 ; 
encroachment on Harvard College, 11 ; 
pertness and audacity of its graduates, 
12 ; decline of Master Gould's methods, 
13; retirement of Master Gould, 13; 
visitation in 1825, 16 ; grandeur of the 
ceremonies thereat, 17 ; the toasts, 17 
note ; severity of the tasks required dur- 
ing Mason Warren's attendance, 30 ; 
dreary exactions of the classics, 31 ; 
neglect of English and mathematics, 31; 
position in 1703, 282 note. 

Lavalette, Charles- Jean-Marie-Felix, Mar- 
quis de, 63 note, 148 note. 

Lavalette, La Marquise de, 63 note, 148 
note. 

Lavalette, Samuel Welles de, Comte, 148 
note. 

Lawrence, William, 162. 

Lawrence, William B., 162. 

Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 185. 



Lawrence, Sir William, 180, 182, 241, 268 

note. 
Leghorn, 164. 
Lemaitre, Frederic, 136. 
Leroy, Jean-Jacques-Joseph, d'Etiolles, 

105. 
"Les Moeurs des Americains," 114. 
L'Estrange, F., Mr., 223 note. 
Les Trois Freres Provencaux, 127-130, 

210. 
Lewes, 243. 
Leyden, 176, 177, 187. 
Ligier, 135. 
Lilly, Robert, 18. 
Lincoln, Gov. Levi, 40 note. 
Lisfranc de Saint Martin, Jacques, 83, 91- 

95, 101, 104, 138, 159, 167, 184, 196, 203, 

207, 269, 307. 
Liston, Robert, Mr., 59, 67, 71, 101, 187, 

196, 197, 307. 
Lithotomy, 70, 71, 308. 
Lithotrity, 97, 99, 308. 
Liverpool, 55, 62, 195, 210, 243, 245, 247, 

260. 
Liverpool Blind Asylum, 55. 
Liverpool Royal Infirmary, 55. 
Livingston, Edward, 204. 
Loch Katrine, 59. 
London, Dr. Warren's arrival in, 55, 56; 

return to, 61, 62 ; letters from, 63, 67, 

69, 72, 168, 200, 243, 246, 247. 
London Hospital, 183. 
London medical schools and hospitals, 

50. 
Lothrop, Charlotte E., 285. 
Lothrop, Rev. Samuel K., D.D., 225. 
Lorenzo de' Medici, 283. 
Louis, Pierre-Charles- Alexandre, M.D., 

78, 107, 108, 109 and note, 110, 131, 138, 

161, 166, 167, 177, 190,201,204,206-208, 

269. 
Louis Philippe, 54, 79, 151, 157, 175, 204- 

207. 
Loyau, Monsieur, 73. 
Luzemburgh, Henry, M.D., 98 note. 
Lying-in Hospital, 264. 
Lying-in Hospital, Dublin, 193. 
Lyman, Mr. and Mrs. Charles, 58, 136, 

137, 143, 144, 146 note. 
Lyman, Mr., 250 note. 
Lyman, Mrs., 247. 
Lyman, George, 7 note. 
Lyman, Theodore, 7 note, 69, 142. 
Lyndhurst, Lord, 56. 
Lyons, 163, 173, 202. 



MACARTNEY, James, M.D., 193, 194. 
Maclagan, David, M.D., 200. 
Macmurdo, Gilbert W., Mr., 183. 
Magendie, Francois, M.D., 139. 
Malgaigne, Joseph-Francois, 99 and note. 
Manchester, 56, 62, 195. 
Manchester Royal Infirmary, 195. 
Manec, J. P., M.D., 142. 
Manners, George, H. B. M. Consul, 5. 



INDEX. 



325 



Mardi Gras, 153. 

Marino Faliero, 132, 130. 

Marjolin, Jean-Nicolas, 79, 104, 105, 127, 

138, 167. 
Mars, Madame, 135. 
Marseilles, 163, 164, 165, 247 and note 
Marshfield, 238, 240. 
Masked Balls, 154, 155. 
Mason, Jonathan, 1, 113, 313. 
Mason, Susan Powell, 1. 
Massachusetts General Hospital, 158,229, 

231 and note, 233, 250 and note, 256, 264, 

265, 279. 
Massachusetts Medical Society, 254, 255 

and note, 264. 
Massachusetts Medical Benevolent So- 
ciety, 264. 
Massy, Mile., 151. 
Mastoid Process, 203. 
Mather, Rev. Cotton, 34. 
Maurarx, Joseph, M.D., 255 note. 
Mayflower, 242 note. 
Mayo, Herbert, Mr., 65. 
Mayor, Matthias, M.D., 205. 
McLellan, Henry B., 30 note. 
Medical and Surgical Journal, 229 note, 

230. 
Medical Board, 264. 
Medical School of Harvard College, 42, 46, 

264. 
Medical School of Paris, its professors, 81 ; 

its " worthy members," 81 note. 
Medical Society of the State of New York, 

265. 
Medical students in Paris, 80, 81 and note, 

269. 
Medicine in 1828, 32; in the early days of 

New England, 33, 34. 
Melrose, 01. 

Middlesex Hospital, 57, 65. 
Midwifery, 205 and note, 306. 
Mifflin, Benjamin C, 233, 235. 
Milan, 162-164. 
Miniature of Dr. Warren, by D'aubigny, 

169, 172 and note. 
Mirabeau, 258. 
Mirecour, 135. 
Moll, Professor, 199. 
Monastery of St. Bernard, 162. 
Monica, 240. 
Mont Cenis Pass, 246. 
Montgomery, William F., M.D., 192, 

193. 
Morel, Madame, 73, 74, 78, 127 note. 
Morgan, John, Mr., 180. 
Morse, J. E., M.D., 128, 134 note, 149, 

151. 
Morton, William T. G., M.D., 229, 231 

note, 243 note. 
" Morton's Letheon," 229. 
Motley, Miss Elizabeth, 231 note. 
Motley, John Lothrop, 7, 231 note. 
Mott, Valentine, M.D., 85 note, 99 note, 

113, 158 note, 159, 208, 224. 
Mountford, Rev. William, 202. 
" Mount Warren," 290. 



Munich, 226, 260. 
Munk, William, M.D., 242 note. 
Museum of Dupuytren, 76, 91. 
Mussey, Reuben D., M.D., 310. 



NAHANT, 250, 252, 259-261, 295. 
Naples, 163, 164. 

Napoleon, 100 note, 102 and note, 152. 

Napoleon's son, 53, 100 note. 

Nemours, Due de, 175. 

Newcastle, 60. 

New England Historic Genealogical So- 
ciety, 256 note. 

New England Quarterly Journal of Medi- 
cine and Surgery, 222. 

Newport, 39. 

New York, 60, 62, 210. 

New York Medical Society, 265. 

New York prisons, 180. 

Nicholson, Rev. William R., D.D., 262. 

Niles, Nathaniel, secretary of legation, 
142, 147. 

Nineteenth Regiment, 251. 

Norwalk, 233-236, 285. 

Nourrit, Adolphe, 153. 

Nullification, 156. 

Nye, Captain Ezra, 51. 



O'CONNELL, 58. 
O'Connor, Barabbas, M.D., 194. 
Opera Comique, 152, 154, 155. 
Opera, La Grande, 152. 
Ordronnaux, John, M.D , 255 note. 
Orfila, Matthieu - Joseph -Bonaventure, 

M.D., 106. 
Orleans, Due d', 175. 
Osgood, Daniel, M.D., 38. 
Otis, Harrison Gray, 7 note. 
Outram, Benjamin Fonseca, M.D., 81 

note. 
Owen, Richard, 175, 241. 
Oxford, 55, 186, 189. 



PADUA, 163. 
Paige, William, 238. 

Palais Roval, 127, 144. 

Paradol, Mile., 135. 

Paris, medical schools and hospitals, 50 ; 
cholera in, 54, 64, 6", 68; outbreak at 
funeral of General Lamarque, 55 note ; 
Dr. Warren's address there, 73 ; novelty 
of its life, 74, 75; letters from, 77-209 
]>(tssim; Dr. Warren's occupations there, 
77-79; advantages enjoyed by students, 
80, 81 ; Sunday in, 124-127 ; splendors 
in 1832, 131 ; privileges of, 160, 161, L66 ; 
insurrection in 1834, 173-175 ; Dr. War- 
ren's return there, 201 ; visit of Dr. 
Warren in 1844,226; in 1854, 243; in 
1856, 246, 247; with Dr. Bowditch in 
1833, 209. 

Park Place, 313. 



326 



INDEX. 



Park Street, 311-316. 

Park Street, No. 2, 1, 249 and note, 292, 

311, 316. 
Park Street, No. 6, 249, 292, 316. 
Park Street Church, 312, 313. 
Parker House, 3. 
Parma, 163. 
Passport, 40 note. 
Pasta, 133. 

Patterson-Bonaparte, Mme., 147. 
Payne, William E., 51 note. 
Pays-Latin, 76, 80. 
Peabody, George, 57 note, 257. 
Peabody, George, of Salem, 305. 
Peabody, Mr. and Mrs. George, 144. 
Peirson, Abel L., M.D., 103, 144, 183, 

234. 
Pemberton Square, No. 29, 225. 
Pentland, J. B., 71. 
" Pepper and Mustard," 61. 
Percivall, William, M.D., 141. 
Pe'rier, Casimir, 54. 
Perkins, Miss Miriam, 51 note. 
Perkins, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas H., 144. 
Perkins, Mr. and Mrs. William P., 148. 
Perth, 59. 

Peruvian heads, 71. 
Phi Beta Kappa Society, 30 note, 264. 
Philadelphia, cholera at, 60, 62. 
Philanthropic Society, 71. 
Phillips, Jonathan, 145, 165, 178. 
Phrenological Society, 160. 
Phrenological Society at Edinburgh, 71 ; 

at Paris, 203. 
Physicians of Paris, envy and contention 

among, 82 and note. 

Pierce, , M.D., 113. 

Pisa, 246. 

Pitt, 242 note. 

Portraits of Dr. Warren, 170. 

Portsmouth, 188. 

Post, Wright, M.D., 113. 

Prince, Rev. Thomas, 282 note. 

Princesse Adelaide, ball given by, 155. 

Prisons, Cobbett on, 180. 

" Prize Book of the Pub lick Latin School," 

8. 
Putnam, Charles G., M.D., 258. 



QUAKERS, Annual Meeting of, 179. 
Quartier-Latin, 73, 76. 
Quincy, Miss Eliza Susan, 116 note. 
Quincy, Miss Eliza S. M., 116 note. 
Quincy, Josiah, Mayor of Boston in 1825, 

17, 315. 
Quincy, Josiah, Jr., 246 note. 
Quincy, Miss Sophia, 51 note. 



RAMMOHUN ROY, Rajah, 150. 
Randolph, John, 99 
Rand, Isaac, M.D., 42 vote. 
Rebellion, the Great, 251. 
" Recent Progress in Surgery," 254. 
Reform Bill, 56 and note, 68, 69. 



Reform Club, 242. 
Reissasen, F. D , M.D., 143. 
Restaurant Flicoteau, 127. 
Restaurant des Trois Freres Provencaux, 

128, 129. 
Revere House, 255 note. 
Revue des Deux Mondes, 114. 
Reynolds, Edward, M.D., 181. 
Rhine, the, 164, 176, 243. 
Rhinoplastie, 105 and note, 202. 
Riban on Bandaging, 205. 
Richards, John, 7 note. 
Richerand, Balthazar Anthelmo, Baron, 

79, 91, 138, 167. 
Richmond, 58. 
Richmond Park, 250. 
Richter, Friedrich, 185. 
Ricord, Philippe, 106, 138, 202. 
Ristori, 135 note. 
Robert le Diable, 57. 
Robert Macaire, 136. 
Robinson, Rev. T. R., D.D., 199. 
Rogers, Mr. and Mrs. Henry B., 51 note. 
Roget, Peter Mark, M.D., 199. 
Rome, 163-165, 246. 
Roots, William, M.D., 72, 181. 
Ross, Sir James Clark, 199. 
Rostan, Louis-Leon, M.D., 138, 160. 
Rotterdam, 177. 
Rouen, 72, 73. 
Rouher, Eugene, 148 note. 
Rouher, Mile. Marie Sophie Leonie, 148 

note. 
Rousseau, 276. 
Roux, Philibert- Joseph, 62,78, 81 note, 83, 

84, 95, 96, 104, 127 note, 143, 146, 147, 

159, 185, 196, 197, 206-208, 269. 
Royal College of Physicians, 242 note. 
Royal Infirmary at Edinburgh, 197. 
Royal London Ophthalmic Hospital, 183, 

188. 
Royal Society of London, 179, 181. 
Royal Westminster Ophthalmic Hospital, 

184. 
Rubini, 133. 
Russia, 102. 
Russian claims, 205. 
Ruysch, Friedrich, M.D., 176 
Ryk, Captain of the "Pallas," 116 note. 



SABATIER-BLOT, 228. 
St. Bartholomew's Hospital, 181, 182, 
186, 187. 
St. Bernard, Monastery of, 162. 
St. Cloud, 99, 126. 
St. George's Hospital, 71, 183. 
St. Patrick's Hospital, 194. 
St. Paul's, 56, 245 note, 262. 
St. Thomas's Hospital, 181, 182, 183. 
Salisbury, 188. 
Sale, John, 311. 
Samson, 135. 

Sanson, Louis Joseph, 104, 206. 
Sargent, Henry W., 18. 
Sargent, Lucius M., 209. 



INDEX. 



327 



Saunders, John C, M.D., 18J. 

Savage, William, 37. 

School of Medicine, 76, 167. 

Scotch surgery, 197. 

Scott, David, M.D., 68. 

Scott, John, Mr., 183, 184. 

Scott, Sir Walter, 10, 14, 53, 58, 60, 61. 

Scribe, 135. 

Sears, Mr. and Mrs. David, 164, 192. 

Sears, Jonathan Mason, 192. 

Senna and glauber salts, 34. 

Serny, 246. 

Serres, Antoine-Etienne-Renaud-Augus- 

tin, M.D., 106. 
Sewall, Chief Justice Samuel, 315. 
Shaw, Elizabeth, 242 note. 
Shaw, Dr. Norton, 242. 
Shaw, Peter, M.D., 242 note. 
Shrewsbury, 188. 
Sichel, Jules, M.D , 106 and note, 152, 167, 

206. 
Siena, 163. 

Simmons, William H., M.D., 192. 
Simpson, Sir James Y., Bart, M.D., 243 

and note. 
Skulls, 70, 71. 
Smith, Socrates, 17. 
Snow, Theodore W., 18. 
Society of the Cincinnati, 264, 299. 
Sorbonne, 79, 190. 
South Carolina, 156. 
Southover Church, 243. 

Spencer, , M.D., 81 note. 

Spliigen Pass, 162. 

Spurzheim, 160. 

Staff a, 60. 

Stanley, Edward, Mr., 181, 182, 186, 

187 
Staphyloraphy, 66, 196, 207, 222. 
State Board of Medical Examiners, 251. 
Steevens's (Dr. Richard) Hospital, 195. 
Stelvio, 226. 

Stevens, William, M.D., 68. 
Stirling, 59. 

Stone, Rev. John S., D.D., 225. 
Story, Hon. Joseph, 16, 17 note, 233. 
Strasburg, 176, 243. 
Stratford-on-Avon, 61. 
Sturgis, Samuel, 311. 
Suffolk District Medical Society, 256 note, 

257. 
Sullivan, William, 7 note. 
Sumner, Charles, 7, 8 note. 
Sunday in Boston, 51, 127 note ; in Lon- 
don, 126 note ; in Paris, 124, 126, 127. 
Surgeon, qualities needed for success, 

223. 
Surgeons of Paris, 83, 96, 97 note, 98 

note. 
Surgery before the discovery of ether, 

223. 
" Surgical Observations," 255, 256 note. 
Sussex, Duke of, 179. 
Swift, Dean, 194. 
Switzerland, 101, 162, 226, 243. 
Syme, James, Mr., 59, 67, 101, 197, 307. 



TAGLIONI, 133, 134 note, 154. 
Tamburini, 133. 
Thacher, James, M.D., 228 note, 252 note, 

300. 
Thackeray, 128. 
Theatre des Varietes, 154. 
Theatre Franqais, 135. 
Thomson, Allen, M.D., 198. 
Thomson, John, M.D., 197-199, 200. 
Thomson, William, M.D., 198. 
Thursday Evening Club, 264, 299. 
Thymus gland, 57 note, 64, 141, 180. 
Ticknor Building, 311. 
Tiedemann, Friedrich, M.D., 176. 
Titicaca, 71. 

Toasts in former days, 17. 
Travers, Benjamin, Mr., 180, 188." 
Treat, R. E., M.D., 192, 196. 
Trinity College, Dublin, 193. 
Trois Freres Provencaux, 127, 151, 210, 

255. 
Trollope, Frances Eleanor, 114. 
Trossachs, 60. 

Trousseau, Armand, M.D., 268 note. 
Tuckerman, Rev. Joseph, 165. 
Turin, 246. 

Twenty-fourth Regiment, 251. 
" Two Remarkable Indian Dwarfs," 254 

note. 
Tyrrel, Frederick, Mr., 69, 161, 180, 183, 

184, 188. 



T7"AN TROMP, 116 note. 
* Velpeau, Alfred-Louis-Armand-Marie, 

78, 83, 84 note, 99 and note, 104 and note, 

142, 143, 159 note, 208 and note, 268 note, 

269, 302, 303. 
Venice, 162, 163. 
Vernon-Harcourt, Sir William George 

Granville, Knt., 231 note. 
Vernon- Harcourt, Lady, 231 note. 
Verona, 163. 
Veterinarv Hospital, 63. 
Vevay, 246. 

Vincent, John P., Mr., 182. 
Vivisection, 138, 139. 



W A GRAM, 85 note. 
Wales, 195. 

Warren, Annie C, 290. 

Warren, Edward, M.D., 25 note, 139, 
143. 

Warren, Eleanor, 245, 290. 

Warren, Miss Elizabeth, 147 note, 313. 

Warren, Miss Emily, 23 note, 74. 

Warren, James Sullivan, attachment to 
his brother Mason, 2:!, 24, 151 ; death, 
25; gratitude, 26 ; reference to, 40; in 
Marseilles and Paris, 136-138, 144, 1<;:> ; 
epithet to his brother, 171; at the re- 
moral of General Warren's remains, 243 
note ; effect of his death on Dr. Warren, 
2- -.7. 

Warren, John, 37, °8. 



328 



INDEX. 



Warren, John, Bishop of Bangor, 241. 

Warren, John, M.D., ancestor of Dr. 
Warren, 1 ; resemblance between him 
and Dr. Warren, 22 ; anecdote of, 42 
note ; operation by, 224 note ; mental 
temperament, 228 note ; remains, 245 
note ; energy and devotion, 252 note ; 
reference to, by Dr. Bowditch, 269 ; old 
family patient, 283 note ; eulogy by Dr. 
James Johnson, 291 note ; his quali- 
ties inherited by Dr. Mason Warren, 
299-301; Life of, by Dr. Buckmin- 
ster Brown, 301 ; one of his daugh- 
ters marries Dr. John B. Brown, 301 
note. 

Warren, John C, M.D., father of Mason 
Warren, 1 ; family and social position, 
2 ; early relations with Sir Astley 
Cooper, 25 note ; enters Latin School, 31 
note; medical ideas, 32; senna in his 
house, 34 ; advocates abstention from 
food, 35; advice to his son, 35, 36 ; youth- 
ful distaste for study, 41 ; unbolted 
wheat flour his discovery, 38 note ; suc- 
ceeds his father at the Harvard Medical 
School, 42 ; letter to his son, 47 ; friend- 
ship between him and Dr. Jackson, 49 ; 
little book of advice, 52 note; a good 
sailor, 53 note; reputation abroad, 55, 
68 ; at Sir Astley Cooper's in 1837, 57 
note ; known by Mr. Key, 58 ; visit to 
Hotel Dieu in 1837, 81 note ; opinion of 
the medical men of Paris, 82 note ; re- 
mark of Velpeau to him, 84 note ; story 
of Lang, 85 note ; extract from his jour- 
nal about Dupuytren, 87 note; comment 
on Dupuytren, 89 note ; about Lisf ranc, 
94; kindness from Civiale,98; intimacy 
with Dubois, 100 and note, 101, 102; 
well known to Velpeau, 104 note ; letter 
to his son, 118 ; advice about diet and 
other matters, 120-123 ; visits President 
Jackson, 123 note ; Sunday in his house, 
125 and note ; Sunday in London, 126 
note ; Sunday in Paris in 1837, 127 note ; 
characteristic letters to his son, 139, 158; 
remark about Velpeau, 159 note ; letter 
to his son in Paris, 209 ; letter from New 
York, 220 ; opinion of surgery, 223 ; 
performs the first operation under the 
influence of ether, 229 ; views as to the 
use of ether, 230; as to its real discoverer, 
231 note ; intimacy with Webster, 237 
and note ; mention of, by Sir James 
Simpson, 243 note ; objects to his son's 
journey, 245; present at the removal of 
General Warren's remains, 245 note ; 
death, 247 ; last letter to his son, 248 ; 
Dr. Bowditch's opinion of, 269, 270, 283 
note ; hereditary patient, 283 note ; de- 
scription of Sir Astley Cooper, 296 note ; 
founder of the Thursday Evening Club, 
299 ; rules for daily conduct in Ap- 
pendix, 305; his home at No. 2 Park 
Street, 311 ; first occupation thereof, 
313. 



Warren, Mrs. John C, tender attachment 
to her son, 20 ; scrap-book and trunk, 
21 ; death, 21, 226 ; resemblance to her 
son, 22 ; portrait, 22 ; message from Dr. 
Warren, 71; visits President Jackson, 
123 note ; mentioned by her son, 145 ; 
messages from her son, 165, 168, 181 ; 
place of burial, 245 note. 

Warren, J. Collins, M.D., present at the 
accident at Norwalk, 233 ; sails for 
Europe with his father in 1854, 241; 
also in 1855, 245 ; at school at Vevay, 
246; letter from his father, 256 note; 
summoned to his father's death-bed, 
260 ; visit to old family patient, 283 
note; absence from "Mount Warren," 
290. 

Warren, Mrs. J. Mason, miniature of Dr. 
Warren by Mile. Lalanne, now in her 
possession, 22 ; miniature by D'aubigny, 
169 ; marriage, 225 ; at Norwalk, 233- 
235 ; sails for Europe in 1854, 241 ; 
and in 1855, 245; "Mount Warren," 
290. 

Warren, Gen. Joseph, grand-uncle of Dr. 
Warren, 1 ; marriage of his daughter to 
Gen. Arnold Welles, 147 note, 313 ; men- 
tioned by Webster, 149 ; mentioned by 
Sir Astley Cooper, 185 ; removal of his 
remains, 245 and note; Mrs. Doggett's 
reminiscences, 283 note; first entomb- 
ment, 315. 

Warren, Miss Mary, 188, 249. 

Warren, Pelham, M.D., 242 note. 

Warren, Sir Peter, 241. 

Warren, Richard, M.D., 242 note. 

Warren, Miss Rosamond, 245, 250 note, 
289, 290. 

Warren Building, 316. 

Warren Museum of Natural History, 
264. 

Warwick, 55. 

Waterhouse, George Robert, 241. 

Waterloo, 102. 

Webster, Daniel, house on Summer St., 
18 ; introduces Dr. Warren to Lafayette, 
149 ; friendship for the Warrens, 237 ; 
letter to Dr. John C. Warren, 237 note ; 
last days, 237-240 ; autopsy, 240 ; pres- 
ent to Dr. Warren from his family, 
283. 

Weiss, John, 70, 209. 

Welles, Gen. Arnold, 147 note, 313. 

Welles, John, 6 note. 

Welles, Samuel, 63 note, 140, 147 and 
note. 

Welles, Mrs. Samuel, 147. 

Welles de Lavalette, Samuel, Comte, 148 
note. 

Wellington, Duke of, 56 note, 69, 186. 

Wells, William, 18, 19, 31, 32. 

Westminster Abbey, 178, 241. 

Westminster Ophthalmic Hospital, 184. 

White Mountains, 165. 

Whitwell, Mr. and Mrs. Samuel, 145 and 
note. 



INDEX. 



129 



Wiggin, Benjamin, 63 note. 
Wiggin, Mrs. Charlotte, 63 note. 
Wiggin, Timothy, 63 and note, 71. 
William IV., 69. 

Williams, Rev. Nathanael, 282 note. 
Williams, Samuel, 63 note. 
Wine, use of, 123. 
Wingate, Judge Paine, 147 note. 
Winthrop, Gov. John, F. R. S., 33. 
Winthrop, Robert C, 6, 7, 8. 
Winthrop, Thomas Lindall, 6 note. 
Wistar, Caspar, M.D., 113. 



Wraxall, Sir Nathaniel W., 242 note. 
Wornieley, Ralph R., Captain R. N., 17 

note. 
Wyman, Morrill, M.D., 270, 271. 



YOUNG, Rev. Alexander, 145. 
York, 58. 

y URICH, 243. 



University Press, Cambridge: John Wilson and Son. 






#**) 



